#Jason’s little back heel and then actually scoring it

[arobinwithoutbatman]

Dio doesn't know what to say to nudge Tim's memory of him back, but he's hurting, both of them are. Dio with his own memories of their time together, of their love and how they learn from each other, of how Tim makes him feel alive again, how he brings a lot of what he needs back into his life, curiosity and wonder like very few people ever made him feel... part of him can't accept that all of that is completely lost. And he knows for a fact that Tim is bashing himself inside his head, feeling guilty and horrible for not remembering, it's all on display, in how he furrows his brows, purses his lips and bites on the inner side of the bottom one, how he cards his fingers on his short hair, in his constant shifting of weight on the heels of his feet when he's standing and the way he taps on the table or whatever surface that's on his reach.

His pale blue eyes watch as Tim taps restart on the cheap and worn wooden top of the table again, then follows to his face and sees that look of guilt. Something tells him Tim is nearly wanting to give up, that his friend - and boyfriend up until a short while ago - is thinking of himself as a weight and burden, and that he wants to end everything. However, instead of saying anything, all Dio does is pour him a cup of the coffee they've been sharing for so long and carefully slides the travel mug between his hands the same way he always does, placing it between the cold digits to help them warm up and holding his hands on the surface of the mug for a few seconds before freeing them from his own touch.

Tim doesn't need to remember.

If it's meant to be, they'll find their way through everything again, learn and fall in love again, not because circumstances drawn them to what happened, but because that's just how they are. All Dio wants is to be around, to see him grow and support Tim the ways he can. The status as boyfriend was good, and he'd be lying if he said he doesn't want it back, but Tim has always come first, before everything else, before the status and intimacy and dates, his laughter, his enthusiasm for learning new things, his bravery, his selflessness, his everything came before any status; his friendship and presence in Dio's life, that's all he wants, everything else can be worked on in time.

"It's my own blend. You can have more if you want. There's enough for both of us and some more." Dio smiles as he pours some for himself as well and tries it himself.

So he officially hates magic users. Because magic has basically shredded his memory bank; all the pieces are still there. They're just all jumbled and blurry so don't make any sense right now. Dick (his brother apparently) had called in a favour from a couple of magic users he knew. Both had said that nothing had been lost and everything was accessible, it would just take time.

Two months in and he mostly remembered crushing loneliness but he had no issues around the people that called him family. There had also been a few incidents with muscle memory kicking in when he got startled.

It always felt right stepping into a hug Dick offered, like... like being wrapped in the feeling of safety. Like he was coming home. He cracked a lot of jokes with Barbara and did his best to ignore how her smile sort of stretched wrong at the corners sometimes. Perhaps these were jokes he'd told before. Jason was a little more complicated. He was perfectly content around the guy but Tim would occasionally feel the need to watch his body language very carefully. Fear would spike in his chest occasionally which was stupid because most of the time they were playing the arcade game upstairs and trying to beat each other's scores.

And then there's Dio.

If Tim hadn't already figured out he was bi after getting very flustered talking to a very pretty barista and that only getting worse when the other barista turned up, Dio would have absolutely made him question things. Because... well... the guy looked like an angel. Not the actual biblical kind, the ones in popular media. Soft faces and gorgeous smiles that made you think of harps. He's sure he knows Dio on a deeper level because the feelings are weirdly strong and also kind of... sad and frustrating.

There's memories just out of reach and he wants them. He wants to know why this ethereal person wanted to be around him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the smell of coffee right under his nose and he gently took hold of the mug. "Thanks, that smells amazing." Warm against his palms. Freshly made. It heped to pay extra attention to sensory information at the moment; anything could trigger a sensory memory and if he talked about it, he might remember something and speed up this whole process. He had a pretty clear memory of a deafening silence before horrified screaming from a huge crowd of people. That was the first time he'd gone running to Dick after waking up from that nightmare, driven by pure instinct to seek a comfort he didn't fully remember yet.

The coffee was wonderfully rich and smooth, just a hint of lightness from milk and sugar. Typically, he took coffee black but sometimes a little milk was nice. It worked here. He felt himself smiling down at the mug, enjoying the warmth rushing through him both from the drink and from a mix of feelings bubbling in his chest. He smiled down at the mug, mostly to himself, blinking from the steam and-

Oh... no that wasn't steam.

"Sorry." He mumbled as he wiped his eyes. "I'm a mess right now."

He fell silent, taking some time to close his eyes and figure out where his feelings were in his body and try to name them. A tip from Jason and that guy was the one actively doing therapy; it was apparently a tactic he applied himself when he was feeling off and so far, it was helping Tim too. It was all in his chest. The warmth. It turned to a buzz under his skin. There wasn't just warmth, there was a ball of something else too, rising up into his throat. That one he knew well; sadness. He was sad. But the smile on his face also hinted that he was happy as well. Honestly, that combination had been happening a lot; happy for reasons he couldn't recall and sad because the memories were missing.

"...I've had this before, haven't I?" He murmured. "I know you. I know, I know you, I can feel it."

God, it was frustrating whenever he hit this point.

#goldentemplariumcrow #ic #Tim Drake The Boy #Tweet Tweet! #v: nebulous future #r: cute coffee guy #thread: amnesia

[kylewalker-peters]

DORTMUND YOU ARE SO FUCKING SEXY PLEASE I LOVE THESE BEES SO MUCH OH MY GOD THEY ARE EVERYTHING

#bvb #that goal was chefs kiss #Jason’s little back heel and then actually scoring it? god he’s just so good

[crash-cinematic-universe]

a sickly satisfaction (ch.1)

pairing: jason dean/reader

summary: high school sucks. jason dean makes it a little better.

warnings: uuhhhh murder, language, suicide discussion

notes: i have every chapter of this written out already, so every wednesday I’ll release a new one <3 in total the story is 7,800 words! but there are some parts that are kind of short, forgive me for those.

            Eyes down. Walk fast. Stay out of their way. Three simple steps to get through the day. They had an iron grip on the school, their perfectly manicured nails digging into the oily skin of the entire student body. High School was a bloody battlefield in the war that is life. However, the epitome of cruelty, the ultimate teenage angst inducing, self-esteem crushing, happiness shattering war machine came in the form of three girls and their weak-willed sidekick. That’s right; my biggest threat in high school is Heather Chandler, Heather McNamara, Heather Duke, and Veronica Sawyer. Veronica at least has some semblance of regret and empathy-- she’s just doing what she needs to survive. Unfortunately, that means the rest of us have to struggle to keep our heads above water. 

            Thankfully, I have a sanctuary. A refrigerator heaven filled with endless isles of roadtrip snacks and hangover remedies. Of course, this junk food Garden of Eden also happens to contain my best friend, Tommy Geller. Tommy is 18, emo, and gay, so naturally we got along pretty well. He sits behind the register and lets me hang around until closing. It’s actually pretty nice-- sometimes he lets me do busywork around the store. Sure, it’s sort of pathetic that Snappy Snack Shack is my main source of serotonin, but you know what? There are worse places to be. 

            “Pop open a bottle of champagne, Tommy, because today is a special day!” I cry, pushing open the small class doors. To my delight, the store is empty. There are no irritating customers there to make me keep my voice down.

            “Oh? And why is that?” Tommy inquires, his jet black hair falling in front of his eyes. He’s tired-- and bored-- and I’m the perfect remedy for that. 

            “Today marks exactly six months since I first stepped foot in this town,” I grin. Tommy’s eyebrows perk up.

            “Really? Congrats, kid,” He’s humoring me a bit, but there is a genuine reaction beneath his sarcastic remarks. 

            “Thanks, Tommy. Y’know, that’s twice as long as my time in New Jersey and three times as long as my run in Nebraska. I have a feeling dear old aunt Maria might actually stay here for good,” I hop over the counter before grabbing a can of Coke out of the fridge. I prop me feet up on the counter, but Tommy knocks them down.

            “You know the rules, kid, no stompy boots on the counter.” I roll my eyes. He wipes off the place where my shoes were before organizing the lotto tickets. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

            “Eh, same old same old. The Heathers were bitches, Veronica was desperately trying to keep up, and I got tripped in the hallway,” Tommy frowns.

            “God, those girls really need to get humbled,” He spits. 

            “You don’t need to tell me. They constantly act so… self-superior, as if their power doesn’t depend solely on whether or not everyone else hates themselves to believe they’re inferior to three teenage girls who are the definition of ‘peaked in high school’,” I squeeze the soda can in my hand, the metal crunching under the pressure. “They need to be more than humbled. The Heathers deserve to be dealt as much pain as they served,”

            “Watch it, kid, you’re sounding a bit homicidal,” Tommy jokes. If only he knew. 

            “It wouldn’t matter anyway. I don’t think they can die-- they’re like a Hydra. If you kill one of the Heathers, three more will grow in her place,” I sigh. Tommy looks concerned.

            “Y/n, you don’t actually want to kill them, right?” I hesitate. The silence makes Tommy worry.

            “I wouldn’t exactly lose sleep if one of them did die,” I reply nonchalantly. “It would be like a public service. Similar to killing the black mold that grows in the girl’s showers,” Tommy looks at me for a second, his expression unreadable, before turning back to his counter. 

            “That’s morbid,” he says. “You know that? You sound like a killer in the making.”

            “Sometimes bad people deserve bad things.”

            “You’re absolutely not helping your case,” Tommy laughs. I can feel someone watching me. It’s an odd feeling, but I brush it off.

            “New topic?” I ask. Tommy nods.

            A mischievous grin grows on his face. “You got a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? All of the above?” he asks hopefully.

            “No, Tommy, and don’t get your hopes up,” I chuckle, before standing up and admiring the neon sign outside.

            “Oh come on, there has to be someone. You can’t possibly go to that hellhole every day and not see at least one hot person!” Tommy groans.

            “Everyone at Westerburg is either evil or boring. No one interests me and I’m not interesting to anyone. Plus, my attention is mainly focused on getting through the day in one piece, not getting laid.” I neglect to mention the stranger I saw in the Cafe yesterday. He was pretty hot, and didn’t seem to be a douchebag-- in fact, he shot two of the douchiest douchebags with blank bullets. A real rarity at Westerburg.

            “God, you need to get out more. I see some pretty people pass through here occasionally, I’m going to start pawning you off,” he jokes.

            “Oh, god, no,” I joined in on his laughter.

            “Yup, I’m going to give every hot person your photo and your address until you finally score yourself some arm candy,” Tommy can barely form sentences through his laughter.

            “I’m gonna to get murdered if you do that, Tom,” I giggle. 

“             And that would be damn shame,” A voice calls from across the counter. I look up to see the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s the same guy from the Cafe-- although in the bright convenience store lighting he looks more like a ghost than a man. His jawline looked sharp enough to slice me in half, his cheekbones high and defined. His hair was gorgeous and his teeth were really, really nice. 

            “Uh, yeah, that would totally s-suck,” I choked. Tommy shot me the most horrified look I’ve ever seen. “I’ve, uh, seen you around. That stunt you pulled in the Cafe was wicked, man, seriously.”

            “Hey, it was a public service,” He smirked. Tommy gave me a ‘holy-shit-I’ll-leave-you-two-alone’ look before disappearing in the isles across the room. I could see him peeking through the cereal boxes. “I’m Jason Dean, but most people call me JD.” He offers his hand for me to shake.

             “Y/n, Y/n Ln,” I grip his hand firmly and try not to have a breakdown over the contact. “Y’know, there are much less extreme ways to get people to fuck off than, well, shooting them.”

              “The extreme always seems to make an impression, though, doesn’t it?” His voice was a little bit lower and he leaned in a little bit closer. Tommy was freaking out across the aisle, his eyes wide as his hand raked through his greasy hair. 

            “That it does,” I grin. “There are quite a few people in that school that deserve certain... extremities,” 

            “I think you’re right,” Jason smirked once again. I kept my composure as best I could. “Speaking of extremities, I saw you and Kurt in the hallway last week,” My face is lit ablaze as I recall the incident. Kurt had been continuously pestering me the entire day, and eventually I reached my limit.

            “I guess they aren’t joking when they say the chin is the knockout button,” Jason seems impressed, although I can’t really tell because looking him in the eyes seems like a death sentence. “Landed me three days detention, though. That sucked. Although I guess it can’t compare to whatever they’re dealing you,” At this point, one of the regulars began approaching the front doors. Tommy sprinted out before they got in, seemingly explaining that my entire love life depends on whether or not I can play it cool.

            “Eh, what can I say. I sort of dug myself a grave there,” I spoke without thinking.

            “The only graves that should’ve been dug are Kurt and Ram’s. My one critique? Use real bullets next time,” I froze. Why the fuck would I say that? I mean, I’m not wrong but I doubt JD would stick around after--

            “I like the way you think,” JD laughs, his ears tinted pink. Jason looks at me, and for a moment, I look right back. There’s something behind his eyes, something festering and enticing. I wonder if my eyes communicate anything. “I’ll see you around, Y/n L/n,” 

            “And I’ll see you, Jason Dean,” With that he winked at me, spun on his heel, and walked out the front door. Tommy practically sprinted across the room as I released every muscle I’d been tensing. I slowly melted onto the floor. Laying on the tile with my eyes trained on the bright lights overhead.

            “Oh my god,” Tommy breathed. “Oh my fucking god that was-- oh my god.”

            “I know,”

             “Did you see him? He’s like a greek god,”

            “I know,”

            “And he was totally into you, like, totally,”

            “I should’ve given him my address. I wouldn’t mind getting murdered by him.” I say breathlessly. Tommy sits on the counter and looks down at me.

            “I think I need to teach you how to talk to boys,” Tommy sighs, shock still lingering on his face.

            “Pssh, I can talk to boys just fine,” I retort.

            “You almost collapsed when you saw him,” he says flatly.

            “That was--”

            “I thought you were going to pass out when he told you his name,”

            “But I--”

            “I genuinely believed you were going to vomit when he shook your hand,”

            “Alright! I give! I can’t talk to boys! You caught me! Lock me up and never let me embarrass myself like that again!” I surrendered, throwing my arms in the air before letting them collapse over my face. “He probably thinks I’m a freak,”

            “Are you joking? He was more smitten than you were!” This caught my attention, and I tore my arms away from my eyes. 

            “Huh? Elaborate!” I snapped.

            “You seriously didn’t notice? He’d been staring at you since you stepped foot in here, didn’t you see him? At first I thought it was weird, but then I realized he was smoking hot so I decided I’d let it slide,” “Comforting,” Sarcasm drips from my words. “Y’know serial killers and stalkers can be hot, too.” I rolled my eyes.

“             I seem to recall you saying something along the lines of ‘I wouldn’t mind getting mur--’,”

            “Alright, Tommy, we get it.” I cut him off in embarrassment. “Please continue.”

            “He comes in here a lot, so I knew he was alright. He was beet red the entire time you were talking. Didn’t you see the way he was in a perpetual state of stupid smiling? Dude, he was definitely into you and really bad at hiding it,” Tommy concluded.

            I smiled a big, dumb smile. I didn’t notice the fact that he was nervous, so he probably didn’t notice that I was dying, right? 

            “Tommy, I think we might have a keeper.”

            “Thank god, I don’t think I could stand to see you go to Prom alone. That would be too depressing, even for me,” Tommy enthused. I propped my feet against the edge of the counter, staring at the tips of my boots. For the first time in a long time, Tommy is silent. I can’t get his eyes out of my head. Then again, I don’t know if I want to. 

_________

#jason dean #heathers #jason dean x reader #a sickly satisfaction series #irl dont look #irl don't look #veronica sawyer #heather mcnamara #heather chandler #heather duke

[ragingbookdragon]

Love Despite Imperfections

Tim Drake & Batmom Story! 

A/N: So this was formerly, ‘He Might Not Be Perfect, But She Loved Him Anyway’, but I thought the title could be changed to this, so I did! Enjoy! -Thorne <3

There were three words he never wanted to hear from her mouth. Three simple words, but three words that carried the weight of her judgement farther than any lesson Bruce could ever teach him. It’s partially what drove him to be the perfect son in her eyes, even though he knew she had no standard for perfect. Those three words came out of her mouth that night, and ever since then, he couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his mind.

Earlier Tonight:

           He stood beside Lucius, smiling and chatting to one of the corporate leaders from Metropolis. Negotiations had gone smoothly, and he’d scored Wayne Enterprises three new subsidiaries; it also gave them reason to throw the giant party they were at. He gave a final goodbye to the corporate leader and scanned the ballroom, looking for his parents; he found them a few seconds later, standing near the bar talking to Clark and Lois. He glanced at Lucius and spoke quietly. “I’m going to check on mom and dad.” Lucius nodded.

           “I’ll be here Tim.” He nodded and made his way over, occasionally stopping to say hello to the WE employees. Eventually, he walked up on the two couples; she was the first to notice, turning to him with a dazzling grin on her face.

           “Timmy.” He grinned at her as she reached over, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her waist and he squeezed lightly.

           “Hey mom.” She pulled back and reached up, cupping his cheek.

           “I’m so proud of you baby.” A soft pink tinged his cheeks and he shrugged.

           “It wasn’t anything super big mom. Just a few subsidiaries.” Her response was cut off by Bruce who rested a hand on the back of his neck.

           “Are you kidding me Tim? You literally brought in fifty million into the company, just by adding in these three subsidiaries.” He smiled lightly and glanced at Clark and Lois.

           “Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Good to see you.” Tim stuck out a hand, watching Clark take it with a smile.

           “You can call us Clark and Lois, Tim. It won’t hurt our feelings.” That brought out a chuckle from everyone and (Y/N) turned back to Tim.

           “Are you enjoying yourself?” Tim nodded and looked around.

           “Tonight, was more of a success party than a gala. There’s not a lot of press here to cover the story.” Bruce nodded at that.

           “I didn’t want all the press in your party tonight.” Tim looked around once more before turning to (Y/N).

           “Where’s the others?” She shrugged and sipped her champagne.

           “Dick and Jason went off to raid the buffet table, and Damian and Jon were around a few minutes ago.”

           “So, the demon-spawn and his super went off to explore?” (Y/N) looked at Tim and raised an eyebrow until Tim mumbled, “Sorry.”

           “I think the two of them went to Damian’s room. But I’m actually betting they went to the game room and are currently playing Cheese Viking.” Everyone laughed at her assumption and she smiled at Tim. “I am proud of you Timmy. You’ve taken on a lot at WE and managed not to collapse under it.” He snorted at her words.

           “I don’t know, it’s been hard. I really had to work at it.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and questioned,

           “Really?” Tim shook his head and deadpanned,

           “No not really.” The two of them chuckled and she reached out, hugging him again.

           “I love you baby.” A smile graced his face and he replied,

           “I love you too mom.” She pulled back once more and patted his shoulder.

           “Go enjoy the party Timmy. It’s for you anyway.” He nodded and turned to the others, saying his goodbye before walking off. He hadn’t even made it ten feet when he felt him come up beside him; he turned and glared at him.

           “What do you want Damian?” Damian smirked and crossed his arms.

           “Nothing.” Tim raised an eyebrow and leaned back.

           “Then why are you standing beside me?”

           “No reason.”

           “What did you do?” Damian shrugged and looked around.

           “I haven’t done a thing.”

           “That’s bullshit.”

           “Perhaps. But you will never know.” Tim stared at him for a few seconds before grunting and walking off, not in the mood to deal with Damian tonight. He got about five feet away before a taunting voice called out behind him. “They say they are proud of you for achieving what you have. But have you ever considered the fact that this was expected of you?” Tim stopped dead in his tracks and turned around.

           “Excuse me?”

           “Umi and Father expect a level of perfection and demand from us. What you’ve achieved was merely something they expected you to do.” Tim knew he was being baited, but he couldn’t help himself.

           “And I’m assuming you’ve got something better?” Damian smiled smugly, something that sent waves of anger through him.

           “We could paint a picture of the things I have that are better than you Drake. Father’s blood, for starters.” The low blow hurt Tim, but Damian kept going. “And more, Umi’s love.” Tim raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

           “And what makes you think that mom doesn’t love me?”

           “Because you aren’t her favorite.”

           “For what reasons?”

           “Umi clearly has favorites Tim. And you aren’t it.” Tim swallowed his anger, clenching his jaw and spat,

           “Of the two of us here, we both know who mom’s favorite is.” He stepped forward and got in Damian’s face, his voice dark. “And while it might not be me…it sure as hell isn’t you, problem child.” Damian’s eyes widened a fraction and Tim felt a surge of satisfaction at it as he turned and began walking away. He hadn’t even moved a foot when he felt something slam into his back; it sent him hurdling to the floor, and the next thing he knew, fists were flying at him. Tim rolled onto his back, bringing his hands up to block Damian’s punches. No words were said, but he could feel the fury radiating off Damian as he blocked another punch, throwing one back at him. They rolled on the floor for a good minute until strong arms pulled the two of them apart; Tim thrashed until someone’s voice reached his ear.

           “Tim! Tim stop!” He halted and glanced up, seeing Jason staring at him alarmed; his gaze moved over and saw Damian being held in a grip by Dick. Tim’s arms dropped to his sides, and Jason let him go. Then, Tim felt eyes on him, and he realized the ballroom had gone completely silent; he glanced around, seeing the shocked looks on everyone’s faces. His eyes kept moving until he came upon (Y/N) and Bruce, who were too stunned to even move from their positions; Bruce’s gaze he could deal with, but (Y/N)’s was unbearable. A second passed, and he heard the clack of heels coming their way; he looked up and saw (Y/N) storming over, a seething look on her face. She stood in front of them, and Tim opened his mouth to apologize.

           “Mom I-” He was cut off as she rebuked him angrily.

           “Zip it.” He shut his mouth and she glanced between him and Damian. “Both of you to the study. Now.” They obeyed, following in a single file line towards the study, the crowd parting for them; she glanced at Dick and Jason and murmured, “Help your dad settle this please.” They nodded and watched her walk behind Tim and Damian.

           The door to the study slammed shut and she pointed to the couch. “Damian. Sit on the end of the couch. Tim, the other.” They sat down and she stood in front of them, her arms crossed as she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Bruce. A few moments later, he stepped into the room, Dick, Jason, and Alfred following. Bruce stepped beside her and she let them have it. “Are you two out of your fucking minds?” Their eyes widened at the curse, taking in the note that she was truly angry. Also, Jason’s minor, ‘oh she’s mad-mad’ made it clear that she was. “I cannot believe the two of you would do something like this in public. Patrol is one thing. Your faces are obscured. But in public? Where pictures and videos can be taken? The both of you have really stirred shit up in the pot this time.” Damian opened his mouth to defend himself, but she pointed at him. “I don’t want to hear a word come out of your mouth young man.” His lips pursed and he nodded, then she turned to Bruce. “They’re off patrol for a month.” He nodded and she turned back to them. “For a month, you two will neither go on patrol or step foot in the cave. You will go to school, any after-school activities, work, and you will come straight home. You will also write apology letters to the higher ups of the company WE just signed with and apologize for your horrendous behavior. Am I clear?” They nodded, but Damian spoke up.

           “What are we to do for the whole month we are ‘grounded’?” (Y/N) turned to Alfred and nodded.

           “I’m sure Alfred can find work for you two to do. This manor is big enough for it.”

           “That isn’t fair Umi!”

           “No what isn’t fair is the fact that you two have embarrassed not only Bruce and I, but yourselves.” (Y/N) gestured between them. “What the hell were you two fighting about anyways?” Silence enveloped them and (Y/N) crossed her arms. “I asked a question and I expect someone to answer it.” The two of them glanced at each other before Tim sighed and mumbled,

           “Damian insulted me.”

           “And it’s something new?” She paused and turned to Damian. “What did you say?” He was silent a few seconds before murmuring,

           “I said…that his achievements were expected of him.”

           “And?”

           “…And that he wasn’t…that he wasn’t loved because he wasn’t father’s blood…or your favorite.” (Y/N) went quiet at his confession, then she faced Tim.

           “Damian didn’t jump you until you said something back to him.” She tipped her head back a little. “What did you say to him?” Tim swallowed thickly before whispering,

           “That even if I wasn’t your favorite, he wasn’t either.” Damian pointed at Tim and blurted out.

           “He called me a problem child too!” (Y/N) raised a hand, effectively silencing him; she stared at them for a while, and the longer she did, the more Tim squirmed under her gaze, ashamed of the weight. After a few minutes, she inhaled deeply and wore a sad look as she uttered,

           “Shame on you.” Their eyes widened at her words as she continued. “Shame on you two for fighting over something this ridiculous.” She turned to Damian. “Just because Bruce is your biological father, it does not make you any more or any less his son than any of your brothers. He loves you the same as Dick, Jason, and Tim, blood or no.” She paused and faced Tim. “What you said to Damian was cruel.” She pointed to herself. “I have no favorites. I love each of you equally. And you four damn sure know that.” Her hand lowered and she looked between them. “I’ve given you your punishments. Go to your rooms.” They were silent as they rose from the couch, moving to the door and to their rooms. Tim had stopped at his door, sensing Damian pass behind him on his way to his room, and Tim looked at the back of Damian’s head before shaking his and going into his room.

A Month Later:

           It was the first night since they’d been grounded that they could finally go back on patrol, and they were ecstatic to go. Damian had already gone off with Dick, speaking animatedly about something involving a bank heist they were going to stop. Tim on the other hand was still lingering in the cave, apprehensive to go out. He stood at the Batcomputer, fiddling with his gauntlet before a low voice caught his attention. “Your mother isn’t angry with you anymore.” He looked up in shock at Bruce who wore a firm look. “She got over being angry at you two the day after the party.” Tim looked away murmuring,

           “She seemed like she was still angry.”

           “Disappointed is the better word.” Tim let out a quiet sigh.

           “I’d much rather have her anger than her disappointment.” He paused and looked at Bruce. “Anger is easy to wade through. But disappointment? That sits in your bones for a long time.” Bruce nodded and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

           “She loves you Tim. More than anything in this world.” He squeezed again. “You make her proud every day.” Bruce let go and began walking towards the Batmobile but stopped and spun back around. “And I love you too, son.” He gave Tim a small smile and hopped in the Batmobile, taking off and leaving Tim to his thoughts.

           He finished his quadrant early that night, and sat on the ledge of a building, watching the city go by. He could go back to the cave and start cold cases. He could even call Conner and have him come over and hang out. But something drew him to WE, and he stood up, making his way over the rooftops in its direction. He came up on it and grappled his way up to Bruce’s office. His hands gripped the railing and he clambered over, walking towards the door; he disabled the security and stepped inside, scanning the room. His eyes feel on a figure stretched out on the couch on the other side of the room, and upon closer inspection, he realized it was (Y/N). He knelt beside her and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently nudging her. “Mom…mom…mom.” (Y/N) jerked, rolling over and raising her hands until Tim came into view, then she dropped them; she sat up slightly, rubbing her eyes and murmuring,

           “What are you doing here baby?” Tim sat on the edge of the couch and pulled back his cowl.

           “Came to check on some things in the office. I didn’t realize you were here…I thought you were at home.” (Y/N) hummed, shaking her head.

           “The new subsidiaries needed new contracts for their workers, so I’ve been pulling some late nights to write them up.” Tim nodded and glanced at the computer.

           “Everything coming out alright?” She nodded replied,

           “I just have to proofread the last one before I send them to your dad so he can look them over.” They went silent, and after a few seconds (Y/N) said, “You hungry?” Tim looked at her and nodded.

           “Now that you ask, I am.” (Y/N) rose from the couch, stopping and stretching before walking to the bar and picking up a pizza box.

           “It’s a little cold, but there’s pizza.” Tim nodded and she motioned to the ceiling. “Wanna go sit up on the roof and watch the city?” He smiled and rose from the couch, following her into the elevator. It rose to the top and they walked out onto the roof, sitting down on the ledge and flipping open the box. They both picked up a piece and tapped them together before eating. “Any problems tonight?” Tim swallowed the food in his mouth and shook his head.

           “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

           “What happened?”

           “Two-Face and his goons were hitting one of the banks.” (Y/N) stopped mid-bite and turned to him, a look of shock etched onto her face.

           “You…took them all out by yourself?” He nodded and she pointed at him. “As your mom saying this, that was incredibly dangerous and reckless. Don’t do that again unless you have help. Understand?” Tim lowered his head and nodded, then a hand gently rested on his head; he looked up to see (Y/N) grinning at him. “But as a former vigilante…you made me proud.” Tim broke into a smile as his heart lightened and (Y/N) pulled back her hand and rested it on his hand. “You know I’m not angry with you about that night anymore…right?” Tim went silent for a few moments before nodding.

           “Dad told me you weren’t.” (Y/N) nodded and turned to face him.

           “I’ve already talked to Damian about that night. Now I need to talk to you about it.” Tim looked at her and waited for her to continue; it took her a few minutes, and when she did, her voice was soft. “Do you know why Bruce and I never had any kids?” Tim’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “…A couple years after Bruce and I started dating, we were driving along a road when we were hit by drunk driver…my side took the impact.” She paused and sucked in a breath. “We both survived impact, but on closer inspection of the damage, a piece of metal had lodged itself into my lower abdomen. We were rushed to the hospital and were put into surgery. They were able to save my life…but at the expense of my uterus…which had been shredded beyond repair by the metal in the accident.” (Y/N) swallowed and cleared her throat. “Bruce and I drifted on ice for a few months, not wanting to hurt each other. But one night, we decided to go to couples’ therapy and try to get some help.” She glanced a Tim and gave a small smile. “That day turned into a night, and we found ourselves at Haly’s Circus.” Tim’s eyes widened and he whispered,

           “Where…” (Y/N) nodded.

           “Where we met our first son. Though at the time, he wasn’t.” (Y/N) sighed and scooted closer. “I never had the chance to bring children of my own into this world. And where I sometimes wish I had been able to…that I wish I still could…” (Y/N) glanced a Tim and brought a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and whispering, “I wouldn’t trade the boys I’ve been given for anything in this world.” Tears began to swim in Tim’s vision, and he lowered his head. “I’ve been given four of the most amazing sons to ever have been birthed on this planet, and I love each of them more anything.” Her other hand reached out, gently taking his chin and she tilted his head up until he looked at her, tears still running down his cheeks. “I love my sons so much that I would die for them. I love my sons so much that I would willing give my life for them. I love my sons so much that no one could ever take their places.” Tim couldn’t form words he was crying too hard, and (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed; (Y/N) brought a hand up, caressing the back of his head as she shushed him, tears of her own dripping down her cheeks. After a few minutes, (Y/N) pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs wiping the tears away as she murmured, “Each son that has come into our home has been loved and is loved.” (Y/N) squeezed his cheeks gently. “I love you Timmy. And all I’ve ever been of you is proud. You got that?” He nodded and she smiled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.” He opened his eyes and gave her a wobbly smile as he whispered,

           “I love you too mom.” They stared at each other for a few seconds before (Y/N) patted his cheeks.

           “Now that we’ve had our boohoo fest and talk…let’s go home and re-watch Game of Thrones.” Tim grinned as they rose from the ledge; they began walking and he nudged her in the side.

           “So…mom.” (Y/N) eyed him.

           “So…Tim.”

           “How do you feel about Bran sitting on the Iron Throne?” He laughed as (Y/N) walked off, her hands raised in the air.

           “WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE ENDING! IT DOESN’T EXIST!”

           The three words that came out of her mouth at the party, hurt him to hear them. But the three words she told him tonight meant more to him than anything in the world. And Tim remembered one very important thing…he might not always be the perfect son…but his mom loved him anyway.

#tim drake imagines #batmom imagines #batfamily imagines #batfamily x reader imagines #batmom x batfamily imagines #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fanfiction #batmom imagine #batmom x batfamily #batmom x batfamily imagine #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batfamily fanfiction #batfamily fanfic #batfamily fic #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #dc comics #dc imagine

[365days365movies]

March 12, 2021: Jason and the Argonauts (Review)

We gotta revitalize the mythology epic film.

I loved this movie...mostly. I’ll get to the “mostly” of it all, but I need to first say that I love the idea of this film. I desperately want more films based (faithfully) on Greek mythology. Please. PLEASE. And I know, I know, Paramount made a Clash of the Titans reboot in 2010, and it was...

...bad. It was really bad. Also probably ended Sam Worthington’s career, because dude VANISHED into the aether of Hollywood after this movie, and its equally bad sequel, Wrath of the Titans. I know, OK? But I still desperately want Greek mythology films.

And yeah, this would be an...OK start, but there’s so much potential! We’ve had Troy to cover Homer’s Iliad, and Troy wasn’t terrible, but we NEED an Odyssey movie, for the love of GOD. Do you know how much goddamn potential there is for an Odyssey movie? 

And I’m fully aware of O Brother Where Art Thou, but it’s loosely based on the story at best. We need an Odyssey movie, is all I’m saying. Not just that, though. We need a new movie about Hercules (non-Disney, and NOT starring the Rock), a movie about a normal Greek dude navigating the complex world of the gods, maybe a movie about Theseus or Perseus (again, yes, I know), and, of course, a Jason and the Argonauts movie.

I need this. I need this more than I can express. Oh, and I really want these films to be accurate, not the fast-and-loose approach to mythology that 1963′s film incarnation played. And oh...let’s get to THAT, shall we? Check out Part One and Part Two of the Recap for more on that, if you’d like more details!

Review

Cast and Acting: 9/10

Much to my everlasting surprise, the acting in this film is actually pretty good! Yeah, it’s definitely got that stereotypical 1960s flair, but it actually makes sense for an epic film based on Greek mythology. It all feels very epic, very grand, and the actors definitely help to contribute to that feeling. Up top, of course, you’ve got Todd Armstrong playing the noble Jason...kinda. Yeah, we’ll get to that, but he only played the character physically, while his voice was overdubbed by Tim Turner. Which...yeah, again, more on that later. But Armstrong is backed by some good support, especially Honor Blackman, Laurence Naismith, and Nancy Kovack, whose turn as the future murderer Medea actually shows her potential villainy in her sparse performance. Seriously, I was impressed by her characterization! This movie surprised me in terms of its acting. Although...Nigel Green as Heracles is only OK, and I’m a little chuffed that he only lasted through some of the film. Of course, that harkens to my BIGGEST issue...

Plot and Writing: 7/10

...OK, look, I know in my heart-of-hearts that judging the story of this film, adapted by Beverley Cross and Jan Read, as based on The Argonautica by Appolonius Rhodius, is unfair. It is. I’m aware of this, don’t worry. But that said...it’s not as good as the original story. Or, at the very least, it makes some weird choices that could’ve been changed. I went through the major inaccuracies in my Recap (too much, at that), so I won’t touch on most of that here. BUT, I do have some points to get through. Bear with me (or just skip this section, let’s be honest).

Missing Argonauts: Literally, the only major Argonaut from the story that actually gets to do something is Heracles, and he DOESN’T GET TO BE HERACLES. Dude is the most famous demigod of all time, and he never gets to do anything more than hold open a door and piss of Talos. Yeah. Disappointing as HELL. But that’s not THE WORST of it. Sure, Atalanta can be unused, as she wasn’t in many versions of the myth anyway. But the Wind Brothers? They’re necessary for defeating the Harpies, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Castor and Pollux? Oh, they’re in the movie, and they don’t do ANYTHING. Orpheus? ORPHEUS? YOU DIDN’T INCLUDE ORPHEUS AT ALL? Orpheus is arguably the most important of the Argonauts outside of Jason and Heracles, and he’s just...nonexistent. That’s just patently offensive. You really couldn’t give Harryhausen the chance to make Sirens? That would’ve been amazing! Speaking of them...

Missing and Misplaced Perils: Yeah, OK, this one’s a little unfair, because I don’t think putting Talos in here was a bad idea AT ALL. It’s actually my favorite part of the film, not gonna lie. But yeah, he was present on the return journey, not the journey to Colchis. But OK, whatever. At least we have the Harpies, the Clashing Rocks, the Sirens, the...oh wait. Where are the Sirens? I guess with no Orpheus, there are no Sirens, but...we really should’ve had both in here, come on.

Acastus: Yeah, here’s a weird criticism, but Acastus really was misused in here as well. He was actually one of Jason’s Argonauts, and came back from the journey on good terms with him...until Medea manipulated and tricked his sisters into cutting their father into pieces in order to gain promised immortality and boil those pieces for consumption. Yeah. Medea’s evil as SHIT. But turning Acastus into a heel-turn villain was...unnecessary, I think. Not that bad, though, so I guess this is a nitpick. I guess I would’ve liked to see the group return, and have had Acastus side with Jason against Pelias. I think that would’ve been neat. And speaking of Pelias...

The Ending: WHAT THE FUCK WAS WITH THE ENDING? Really? No conclusion to the story? What happens on the journey back? What happens with Pelias and Jason? Does Jason become King of Thessaly, now that Acastus is dead? Come on, man, what the hell! I HATE how that film ends so much, because there’s just nothing. Jason escapes by jumping off a cliff, the soldiers are still around (and are probably gonna kill the Colchian soldiers out of bloodlust), and Jason and Medea kiss, AND THE MOVIE ENDS. GAAAAAAAH

...Yeah, the plot could use some work, I think. But the worst part is...it’s still not a bad version of the story. Yeah! Despite all of my problems with it, most of the changes narratively make sense, outside of the original Argonautica. So, all things considered, I’m probably being too harsh on this film for personal reasons. What can I say, I love Greek mythology? But, I can still admit that this film is well-plotted out...for what it is.

Directing and Cinematography: 8/10

Is it the most groundbreaking direction by Don Chaffey, or the best cinematography by Wilkie Cooper? Well, no, but it’s still good. There aren’t exactly any amazing and groundbreaking shots here, but I also have no complains about either of these categories. So, yeah, not bad, guys. However...

Production and Art Design: 10/10

...the film still LOOKS fantastic. Because the production, set, and art design of this movie are all fantastic. From the costumes, to the Argo, to the authentic-looking sets, this movie looks great. And, of course...there are the effects by Ray Harryhausen. Which deserves the biggest chef’s kiss I can muster. Some of you may be thinking, “I dunno man, those effects don’t fully hold up.” To which I must remind you, that this film is 57 years old. FIFTY. SEVEN. Look, for the time period, this is groundbreaking, and it honestly looks pretty good today, even with the advent of better technologies. And the fact that these are technically physical objects does make this film look more...well, real, to be honest. It all looks pretty real, in a way. And they’re even pretty well-integrated with the live-action actors, much to my surprise. Gotta say, I love it. Antiquated, maybe, but also authentic. I love it.

Music and Editing: 9/10

Music, done by Bernard Hermann, is stellar and BOOMING. It’s an epic score for an epic story, and I also love it. As for the editing by Maurice Rootes, it’s also pretty great. Except for the sound editing. Yeah, um, the sound-editing for this movie isn’t great. It’s not bad, but it definitely isn’t amazing, especially in the base of dubbing for Jason and Medea. Oh, yeah, she’s dubbed over by Eva Haddon, forgot to mention that. And it’s pretty obvious. It’s a weak point, is what I’m saying.

88%, which might be a little...biased.

I love Greek mythology (he said for the eightieth time), and that may have colored my perception of this film. And yet, I do still really like this movie! It’s a classic film, and I’m looking forward to the other film of it’s caliber coming in a few days!

For the next one, though, I’ll have to do something non-Greek myth based. I mean, to continue the previously established trend...back to Japan for 3 HOURS? Oh...oh shit. I may have to break this next one up.

March 13, 2021: Kwaidan (1965)

#jason and the argonauts #don chaffey #ray harryhausen #todd armstrong #nancy kovack #honor blackman #gary raymond #laurence naismith #greek mythology #argonauts #argonautica #apollonius rhodius #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #movie review

[legolaslovely]

Serving Satyrs

A/N: More Iolaus because this little babe has my heart! Hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to my Iolaus anon for helping me not to give up on this one!

Pairing: Iolaus x Reader

Word Count: 3,327

Warnings: Fluff, angst, violence but not a ton

Summary: (Y/N) just wants to spend her night off at Kora’s Inn in peace. When trouble starts, she begs her friends not to get involved, but strife always seems to find Iolaus <I am hilarious, I know.

Dacuda- top cadet at the academy, also the song is totally stolen from the show, I wrote/own none of that lol

Kora’s little inn was bustling with people, everyone wanting something from her- their food, their drink, their check, or simply her attention. The air was thick with hearty, ale-smelling laughs and the area around the bar even thicker with demanding costumers. It was the busiest night of the week and Kora was clearly understaffed, so (Y/N) was content to stay invisible until the inn owner had a moment to take a breath and get the refills she knew (Y/N) had come to buy.

(Y/N) stood patiently with one elbow on the bar, rolling her eyes slightly at the men around her. They were all so loud. Her filled ears made her want to slip out of the inn and get some peace- forget about the refills and her waiting friends. Instead, she whipped around to her left when she felt a hand on her back. 

“Hey, (Y/N), sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Iolaus said with a smile. 

She let go of a breath, relived to see an ally. “Hi. Where have you been?” she said lightly. 

His smile disappeared. “With Fiducius.”

She hummed, remembering. “How’d it go today?”

“It’s so boring. It’s worse than actual class because it’s just me and him.” He pulled her closer to him and out of the way of a man in his cups who was waving his arms at Kora. 

“I wish you had told me about your struggles sooner. I would have tutored you.”

“You would?”

“Of course.”

Frustration fell over his features anew. “Fiddle Face wouldn’t let you. He wants to torture me.”

“Maybe if you stopped calling him ‘Fiddle Face,’ he’d go easier on you.” She chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “You know I’m right. I will ask him tomorrow if I can take over as your tutor.”

He clasped her shoulders. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Stop shaking me!” she laughed.

“Sorry.”

“And you’re welcome.”

Iolaus dropped his hands when Jason came up to the bar next to (Y/N). “Hey, Iolaus, what took you so long? I thought we were supposed to meet here right after class.”

Iolaus pushed his curls behind his ear, propping his shoulders back to match Jason’s. “Uh, I was-I had to-”

“I asked him to stop back at the academy to grab my money pouch for me,” (Y/N) said, pulling her coin purse off her belt. “And he did. Thank you, Iolaus.”

Iolaus grunted, pulling at his vest. He was an exceptional liar, but not when it came to deceiving his friends. He sent (Y/N) a sideways glance in thanks while Jason was distracted by the crowd. 

“It’s really packed in here tonight,” he said. “Maybe we should come back for drinks when Kora’s less busy.”

“Here she comes,” (Y/N) said, seeing a blonde head rushing to their side of the bar with four sloshing cups. Before Kora disappeared again, (Y/N) called her back. “Do you need an extra server?”

“No, I can handle it.”

“I can help,” (Y/N) said, leaning further over the bar. 

“When was the last time you had a night off?” Kora asked. She couldn’t see it, but (Y/N) knew she had her hand resting on a stuck out hip.

“That doesn’t matter-” (Y/N) began.

“That means she can’t remember,” Iolaus said. He half laughed, half ignored the glare (Y/N) sent him over her shoulder.

“Go sit and enjoy your night off. Just wave when you need refills,” Kora said before she disappeared into the mob of customers once more.

(Y/N) straightened, shooting Iolaus a look. His blue eyes danced in amusement. “Why do I keep your secrets if you can’t keep mine?” she asked, letting him weave her through the crowd to their low table with a hand on her back. 

He only laughed. He took his place on the bench next to her as Jason was already sitting across the table with Hercules. He eyed the food on the table and popped a grape into his salivating mouth. “What?” he asked Hercules, noticing his friend’s brow raised high on his forehead. 

“Nice of you to join us,” he said.

“Yeah, Iolaus, you’re always the last one here,” Jason said. 

“And the last to buy your own food,” (Y/N) said with a smirk as Iolaus took a hand full of the bread she’d bought.

He froze and sent her a sweet little smile. He looked like a chipmunk with his cheeks full and despite herself, (Y/N) breathed out a laugh. “I’m sorry, did you want some of this?” He tried to feed her, doing his best to shove the little cubes of bread and crackers into her mouth. She swatted his hands away, laughing at the gross little chewing noises he made in her ear. 

“Iolaus! Stop! Grow up, will you?” Her admonishing held no ground as she giggled through her words. 

“No.” He continued, now wiping the sweet, creamy smear on her nose.

“Stop! Stop it, the food’s all yours.” She stretched a palm over his face and pushed him away, but not before he could loop a finger back over her nose and stick his cream covered finger in his mouth. 

“Delicious.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and swiped a handkerchief over her face before whipping it at Iolaus’ chest. Before he could return the blow, their entire bench jostled, almost spilling both of them on the floor. Iolaus stood immediately, glaring at the offending satyr that towered over him. The half furred creature stomped its large hooves menacingly, watching Jason and Hercules, who had previously made their way over to another table, flank Iolaus fearlessly. 

“Watch where you’re going,” the satyr said.

“Me? You walked straight into our bench like a clumsy-”

“Iolaus,” (Y/N) said softly in warning.

He turned to her and his features softened only enough for her to see. He huffed and turned back to the offender. “The least you could do is apologize to my friend. You almost knocked her to the ground.” His fury bubbled higher with every word. 

“Maybe that’s where she belongs.”

“How dare you say that about her,” Iolaus spat, stepping up to stand on the bench. He swung his tight fist back, but (Y/N) caught his arm, stopping him. 

“It’s not worth it, Iolaus.” She pulled him down. “I think it would be best if you were going now,” she growled to the satyr. She felt Hecules and Jason step up next to her and luckily, the huge creature made his way to the other side of the inn. 

“(Y/N) we could have taken him,” Jason said, pulling his vest back into place. 

“I know that.” She felt Hercules and Jason calming but Iolaus was vibrating in his anger. “It’s not worth starting trouble. Poor Kora has enough to deal with tonight, we don’t need to add a bar fight into the mix.”

“After what he said about you,” Iolaus began. He was unable to finish, left only to bite down on his own teeth and slowly shake his head. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” he said loud enough to pull the attention of some of the other tables. 

She pulled on his arm, directing him to sit next to her. “Please don’t start trouble tonight. Any of you,” she said, looking across the table. “This is the first night in weeks that we don’t have to eat at the academy. Tomorrow we have to go back to eating the same slop as the pigs, so please, let’s enjoy our freedom tonight?”

“You’re right,” Hercules said.

Jason nodded and changed the subject back to the drill exam they’d taken at the academy that week. “I still don’t know how they can expect us to do that blindfolded.”

“Oh, just because the future king of Corinth can’t do it means it’s impossible?” Hercules said, elbowing Jason’s ribs.

“Can you do it? Son of Zeus?”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) could see Iolaus was still sitting stiffly. Her hand landed on his knee, startling him to look up at her. He sent her a small smile that only moved his lips and began to pay attention to the conversation. “I’ll get us some thinner kerchiefs. Some we can see through,” he said. “Then we’ll see who’s named Dacuda this quarter.” As his friends laughed, he looked around to glare at the satyr at the other end of the bar. 

“Iolaus,” (Y/N) said, pulling his attention with a small hum from him. “It’s not worth it.”

“You’ve said that.”

“Say you won’t start trouble tonight. Look at me and promise.”

He jutted out his chin to her. “I won’t.” Then he shrugged, more defensive. “I will not start trouble.” He smacked her with his handkerchief. “Eat your food or I will.”

“You will anyway,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his and dipping a cracker into the smear. 

The stand off was soon forgotten as the four continued to nibble and joke about classes and drills at the academy. (Y/N) seamlessly changed the subject from test scores to local chariot races and she felt Iolaus relax next to her. When it was time for some more refills, she offered to grab them at the bar instead of waving to Kora for their delivery.

“You’re gonna go ask her if she needs help again,” Iolaus said. It wasn’t a question.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” Hercules said. “It’ll be a late night for you then, (Y/N). Are you sure?” 

“I’ll stay with her,” Iolaus said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I don’t need watching. I too am a cadet, you know. And if I remember correctly, I was named Dacuda last quarter.” She grabbed the four cups by the rim and stood. 

“Oh, we remember,” Jason said. “And we were the ones who planned the party following it. Remember that?”

“Yes I do,” she said, curtsying and waving the the glasses through the air. “And a grand party it was, boys.” She spun on her heels to be off before Iolaus caught her. 

“You won’t serve the satyr, right?”

“Iolaus, I don’t even know if Kora needs another server tonight. It seems like the rush has passed.”

“But if you pick up the shift-”

“Then I will serve anyone who buys something.”

He sighed, eyes boring into hers. “I will stay if you do.”

“I don’t need-”

“Only to walk you back to the academy. I said I wouldn’t start trouble and I won’t.”

The raucous around them seemed to escalate as she paused. “Fine.” Then she turned towards the bar once more, leaving Iolaus to sit down on the empty bench with their friends. 

(Y/N) set the empty cups on the bar and leaned over the edge, calling for Kora. 

“Another round?” she yelled back, not taking her eyes off of her task. 

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t need another server?”

Kora collected empty plates as she made her way over to (Y/N). “It’s slowing down for the night,” she said. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll say it again. Go sit down with your friends and enjoy. No more coming up to the bar. I will bring refills. Go.” She swatted her hand before her attention was drawn over (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Hey! Take it outside! Now!”

(Y/N) whirled, feeling her stomach drop. The satyr was sending hit after hit toward Iolaus, who had seemed to have dodged every blow so far. Iolaus’ face had gone red and fearsome as he turned and kicked the satyr in the gut. A howl sounded, but the beast collected himself to grab Iolaus by the throat and lift him off the ground. As (Y/N) ran to them, the bar crowd parted as if ropes pulled at them. She leapt to the beast’s back and caught it’s shoulders and head in a complicated, inescapable headlock. She avoided the horns skillfully until the workers of the inn could escort the satyr out. Then, she fell to the ground, gracefully landing on her feet and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The creature’s head had bashed his skull against her lip, leaving her bleeding.

“(Y/N)! Are you all right?” Iolaus asked, lifting her chin with his fingers.

She swatted him away. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” Her smarting mouth, fear, and fury all brought her close to tears. Shoving it all down, she yelled, “You should be sorry! I asked you not to start trouble! Two minutes ago, you gave me your word. And then you break it.”

“I-”

“(Y/N), Iolaus didn’t start it,” Jason said. He and Hercules barraged her with excuses and explanations, crowding her against the bench. 

“I don’t want to hear it! I’m leaving. I’m going back to the academy.”

“No,” Iolaus said, moving to touch her but thinking better of it. “No, I’ll go. You stay here and eat the rest of your food. I’ll go.”

“Good.”

His eyes dropped from hers at that and she instantly regretted saying the word. She had to stop her hand from flying out to him as he turned away. He watched his feet cross the floor as he left the inn and shut the door behind him without a look back. (Y/N) sat with a plop, pushing her plate further across the table and away from her.

“(Y/N),” Hercules said. She looked up, seeing both him and Jason watching her. “(Y/N), Iolaus did not start the fight.”

“Don’t protect him,” she said, bristling anew. 

“The moment you left for the bar, the satyr came back and pressed him.”

“All of us,” Jason said. 

“Well, all of you should have ignored him,” she said. “Taken the high road. What would Chieron say if he saw you taking part in a bar fight?”

Jason and Hercules shared a look. “I think he would have been proud of us,” Hercules said.

(Y/N) almost choked. “What?”

“You weren’t there, (Y/N),” Jason said. “That satyr was saying unacceptable things, things... about you. We wouldn’t let him get away with that. That moron started the fight, he hit Hercules first. The two of us were throwing punches, Iolaus was just defending us.”

“And me,” (Y/N) said with a sigh. She winced, not at the pain in her lip, but at the pain she’d caused. She stood. “I’ll go find him. I’ll see you guys back at the academy.”

“Want us to walk you?”

“No. He hasn’t gone far by now.” She wanted to speak to him alone.

When she opened the door to the inn, light flooded the trees and trails back to the academy. “Iolaus!” she called, running through the clearing and to the edge of the wood. “Wait.”

He met her halfway, astonished to see her once she’d sent him away like that in the inn. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“Please,” she waved him away. “Please. I’m- the guys told me what happened.”

Iolaus sighed and shook his head. “They weren’t supposed to,” he mumbled.

“Why didn’t you tell me the satyr was encouraging you?”

“Because I didn’t want you to hear the nasty things he said about you!”

“I don’t care about that!” She caught his arm as he turned. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and you’ve let me yell at you in front of everyone. I should be thanking you for defending me.”

He brows drew together as he took her chin, tilting her face toward the dim light of the inn. “How’s your lip?”

“Fine. Just fine. Your neck?”

He smirked. “Oh, fine. Just fine.”

She scoffed before her fingertips traced over the red marks on his neck and slid down his chest. “Doesn’t look fine.”

“Well, I should have listened to you. Starting a fight with a gigantic satyr was not one of my brightest ideas.”

“No.”

He seized her hand before it fell to her side. After wrapping her arm through his, he led her down the trail to the academy. The light from the inn slowly faded, but his eyes sparkled even brighter as they walked on. “Will you still be my tutor after all this?”

“Well, I have to repay you somehow, hm? And you need all the help you can get.”

He tugged on her arm, sending her crashing into him. Easily catching her, he said, “I take offence to that.”

“Prove me wrong. Name five constellations.”

He sent her a sideways glare before slowing his pace a bit through the trail. He looked above, hoping to see something that would point the way. However, the sky was dark tonight and the stars that could be seen were blocked by the foliage of the trees around them. “Uh, Aquarius...”

“Yes.”

“The archer one.”

“Sagittarius.”

“Right.” Past the sentient wood, he could hear the bubbling of the stream to the west. Well, what he thought was west. “I know more.”

“I know you do.” She gave him a genuine smile. “If you memorize them in alphabetical order, it may be easier to name most of them. Or you could do what Gregor does.”

He made a scrunched up face. “And make a song for everything? Absolutely not.”

“He is a top cadet in academics. It might help you.” She made a show of clearing her throat before she started to sing. “Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, how could be finer than Polaris!” She continued to sing the catchy tune to the constellations. He took her hands and spun her around him, wrapping an arm around her waist and bouncing her back and forth to the beat. Her laugh echoed through the trees and swam about Iolaus’ mind and he couldn’t get enough. She soon ran out of breath and ended up bent over in his arms laughing hysterically. 

“That song is going to be stuck in my head all night!” he said. 

“And you’ll wake up knowing your constellations.”

He hummed a laugh, quieting his voice as they grew nearer to the academy. He stopped at the end of the trail. “I liked spending time together, just the two of us.” 

“It wasn’t too awful,” she said, dodging his flying hand. 

“We should do it again sometime,” he said, wild grin softening as he spoke.

“If Fiducious agrees, I’ll be your new tutor and we’ll be spending a lot of time just the two of us. Studying.”

“Oh, perfect,” he said. “Will there be more singing?” That sent her into another fit of shushed giggles. When they subsided, he said, “I meant that I’d like to see you outside of school all together. Just you and me.”

She gave him a sideways smirk. “You putting the moves on me, Iolaus?”

“Some of ‘em.” He let his lips lift into an authentic grin that made her breath catch.

“We’ll have to get rid of the guys more often then.” She let him lean towards her lips and when he became just a blur of tan skin and golden curls, she closed her eyes. But they’re lips never touched.

“What do you mean ‘get rid of us’?” Hercules called from down the trail.

“Yeah, (Y/N), we all know I’m your favorite!” Jason said. 

The pair pushed their way between Iolaus and (Y/N), saying goodnight as they passed and never stopping as they closed the door to the academy behind them.

“He’s right. He is my favorite.”

“I’m not afraid to fight him for that title.” He leaned to kiss her, sighing when their lips finally met. They encased each other in arms and chests and hands and lips until they had to part for breath. 

“Good luck with that,” she said with one more peck of her lips against his before heading inside the academy for the night.

Taglist: @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fizzyxcustard @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @teagarages @winchesterandpie @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af​ @zulfiya-the-warrior-princess​ @marigoldvance​

#iolaus #young hercules #iolaus x reader #iolaus young hercules #dean o'gorman x reader

[royisms]

annekane asked: false god by taylor swift

so here’s a long ass thing i did that deiniftely doesn’t answer the question and nobody asked for but did that stop me? no.

Harvard University: Government Major

     -- Dated for five months in freshman year. Jason was in her Economy class and they didn’t talk until after the term was over. They met met at a bar near campus and it took her exactly those five months to realize that they wanted opposite things. He was looking for a long term girlfriend, and Amanda was already not about that life. She took the end of the year as an excuse and ended things before moving back home for the summer.

     -- Hookup in freshman year. Some guy on the debate team that beat her on the last round. It didn’t last long (in more than one way), but there was something about competition that was so exciting already. 

     -- Dated? in sophomore year: it’s been over twenty years and Amanda’s still utterly confused about this guy. She was certain they were only sleeping together, he apparently was sure that they were an item. It didn’t end well. Someone saw her flirting with some other guy and Bruno god stupid angry and it kind of looked like a scene out of a comedy series. They were having totally different conversations, but bottom line was she broke his heart.

     -- Hookup during the summer between sophomore and junior years: Amanda was as  vanilla as it got because she never ever had sex ed in school (shocking) and she hadn’t had enough partners and enough confidence to try things out. Xavier was her first experience with an older guy (she was 20, he was 28) and he taught her things about herself. They didn’t talk too much, he picked her up and dropped her off just around the corner of her house so her parents wouldn’t ask whose car it was. He was an incredible kisser and the fact that he paid her any attention at all made her feel all the more mature. He even paid for the morning after pill that one time. So sweet.

     -- Hookup in junior year: at that one party, her roommate and her were dared to kiss and Amanda was That Girl and was also way past tipsy and it kinda seemed like a good idea. Callie and her were in the same classes, too, and they both pretended it had never happened. To be fair, Amanda couldn’t even recall if the kiss had been good the next morning.

     -- Dated for four months: Phil. Kinda lame, but had an okay sense of humour and he sat through extremely lengthy conversations with her and Oliver about the undoubtable and unavoidable demise of humanity. Evidently, he did it because he thought she owed her after, and she wasn’t informed enough to know she didn’t, so she lay down for two and a half minutes, cleaned up after and said she was tired and she’d see him the next day because he was really weird to share a bed with. After using all the clichés she knew to say she didn’t want to see him anymore, he decided to ignore her not very subtle hints and kept calling and showing up with take out. Phil really is a boring name for a boring man who needed a smack on the head and a book on women’s rights. Also: https://royisms.tumblr.com/post/621230604961333248/i-wish-i-missed-my-ex-mahalia

      -- Fell for Marcus in junior year: this time, it was the other way around. She was completely enamoured by him (looking back, it was the fact that he had a full academic scholarship he didn’t need and him being a guy her age who wasn’t a complete waste of space). There were rumours but she decided to ignore them and they came back to bite her in the ass. If she remembers correctly, that was the first time Oliver held back an “I told you”, but maybe she just didn’t hear him because she was sobbing into her pillow and screaming about how men were all the same and how could she have been so stupid. Not only a borken heart, but Marcus also gave her an STD! Thanks babe!

Georgetown University: Masters in Public Policy 

     -- Hooked up with her first Grad professor: because she’s a dumb bitch who doesn’t learn. He was only five years older but being in a position where he was way more powerful gave her such a rush. They wouldn’t talk in class, but she’d look at him from across the room and give him a look because it earned her some rough loving when they were finally behind closed doors. He eventually stopped calling her when she passed his class and he found another student to sleep with. Anyway... That’s systemic misogyny for you.

     -- Dated for eight months in 2003 - 2004: Joshua. Maybe the first relationship she’d consider serious. She had her own room for the first time in years and so did he, and they spent most nights together. With working on top of studying and her lack of time-management skills, she didn’t spend too much time with friends and, instead, they became each other’s support system. In the end, they liked each other because they didn’t have others who’d stand by them while they got consumed in their textbooks and not because they had too much in common. He’s now probably a Republican mayor in some town and he’s balding so she calls this one a win for sure.

Started to work for her father’s consultancy to dip her toe into electoral strategy.

     -- Hooked up with: Frank. A lawyer who’d just joined the consultancy business. She met him at an event she was assisting in. He was also struggling to pay rent but he was much better at hiding it and his neat hair and grey tux (and her lack of human touch in months) earned him a willing young blonde eager to get out of her heels and into his bed. They were done by 12:13am and he kicked her out, didn’t even call her a cab. Definitely not what she’d pictured for her first month as an official adult.

Didn’t date anyone, finally decided to officially put her career first and not focus on men. Also, started going to a therapist for the first time! This was great. We love mental health. Started to think about leaving her dad’s business and work on something else. Consultancy was okay but she really wanted to make an impact on the world, have a legacy... Yada yada.  

     -- Hooked up with: Luke. Her friend stood her up at the bar because she met some dude and Amanda was forcefully introduced to the beauty of drinking alone. This guy used the classic ‘pretending to be your boyfriend when a stranger is hitting on you to get them off but then I ask for your number so you’re uncomfortable again but I win so who cares’ move. She was tipsy enough that she didn’t care he didn’t have a condom. Unfortunately, her bank account disagreed when she withdrew the cash necessary for Planned Parenthood. You know what, fuck you Luke.

She took on more responsibilities at the office and eventually gathered enough to have her own clients. Granted, she still worked for an office, but her dad was close to retiring and she was proud of her own accomplishments. People actually called in and requested her by this point! Amazing progress. She was never working on campaigns alone because Youth and also men were still in charge lmao let’s not forget!! But hey. It’s something.

     -- Hooked up with: Samuel. He wasn’t a client anymore and he was a little younger than her, actually. He was also a Republican. Something about him winning the election with her help and her getting praise over the work she’d done by her peers made her reach out in 2010. One glass of wine became two and three. She kicked him out in the morning, and as far as she’s concerned his wife never found out.

     --  Dated (on and off) for one year and a half 2011 - 2012: Doh. He was a rising journalist, he’d written a big piece on something sketchy that had happened in Congress and he’d scored an important job, and he still wasn’t as busy as Amanda made herself. It was one year full of half-fights because, as if on cue, her phone would always start ringing and she’d pick it up without hesitation. In the end, he was too tired to explain, and she didn’t really want to hear it. By this point, she’d already started shooting people an annoyed look when they asked when she’d finally have children.

Her dad retired and his partner bought his half of the business. Amanda decided to leave the company; with the connections she’d secured during her many years as an assistant, she was finally able to consult on her own. 

     -- Hooked up with: Paarush. What was supposed to be a night of unwinding and letting herself go ended in too tight of a grip and some deep bruises on her neck. She had to wear a scarf for days to avoid any inappropriate questions.

     -- Dated for two years: Peter. Professionally, she was getting places she’d never even dreamed of and, as it had happened before, she was putting her career before anything else. She started seeing Peter after a friend of a friend introduced them and he was sweet. He was an economist and he wasn’t as busy as her, but he seemed to understand. The first few months, he’d call her at night and listen to her rant about her day, he’d check in on the weekends and wouldn’t get mad when she forgot to return his call. A few months in, he asked for the spare key to her place and it made sense, because he’d get there so much earlier than her. She’d arrive and he would have made dinner because he knew she’d forget to eat otherwise. It started small: something about the clients she was working for, how she should just stay home, comments about how good of a mother she’d be even though she’d made it very clear she had no intention in having children. By the end, it was about her beliefs and her impossibility to be empathetic with him. Most of all, he repeated over and over how she was so innocent to believe she could make a change in the world. It was hard to part ways because it was so comfortable -- they’d fallen into a routine that had taken a lot of weight off her shoulders for a while, but when she changed the lock of her apartment and refused to talk to him, she really believed she was better off without him.

     -- Hooked up with: Hans. As far as she’s concerned, he definitely wasn’t the worst man she’d slept with. Need I say more?

Started working for Oliver as his Chief of Staff. A new job, new staff, new line of work altogether, it was… Big. Not too much time for dating but she deprived herself of sleep. 

     -- Hooked up with: Javier. Not a Republican, but a conservative Democrat. He was on his way to become Mayor of Louisville (thanks to her, mostly). Again, winning is exciting, and she’s a simple woman with needs.

     -- Dated for nine months: Charlie. They matched on Tinder and Amanda messaged them with a line she thought was funny and cheeky, it probably wasn’t but for whatever reason, Charlie messaged her back. They met at a bar and hit it off almost immediately, and - wow, sleeping with someone she didn’t hate was a welcomed change. They were the first (and, so far, only) person she dated who wasn’t a man. It was a little scary at first, to be honest -- she’s a feminist, she’s liberal, she’s progressive, and she’s nice, but it was a new experience and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. In the end, they were both too busy to keep up with a relationship. Fun fact: they both decided to break up on the same night so they were dumper and dumpee all the same. Amanda was not amused at the time, she hadn’t been dumped in so long, but hey… They didn’t talk for a while, but then ran into each other at some event or the other, one thing led to another… They definitely hooked up a few times after breaking up, but both made sure there weren’t any romantic feelings left there. That would’ve been Awkward.

Election season started and, with that, her new position as Campaign Manager for Zafar 2020. Later, she’d become Deputy Campaign Manager for Berkeley-Zafar 2020. She’s working way more hours and definitely doesn’t have time for men. Or does she! You know what I’m talking about.

     -- Did not date for nine months: Silas. There are many things she could say about him, but she won’t because it never happened. Outside of her bedroom, and his (and… His office, and the restroom at that one bar), this never happened. She never sent him flowers, he never put on his cat to meow through the phone to her, they never shared a lazy Sunday morning with coffee in bed and books unrelated to work. And he’s definitely not the man who “I can't talk to you when you're like this, staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town” was written about.

#okay... here's the thing... however long you think this is gonna be #it's probably longer #the THINGS i'll do to avoid writing replie somfg #mnmchallenge #except nobody asked for it #[ silassanford ] #[ hans starke ] #[ charliekeeting ] #[ tell me again about how it hurts ; being awfully loud for an introvert ; amanda ] #how tf do i tag this holy crap

[m00nslippers]

Everyone Crushing On Jason 1

Well um...I said I had something nice for you guys and this is it, the prologue to the 'Everyone Crushing on Jason AU' that no one asked for. Unlike the AU you all know and love, this isn't actually funny, it's more serious. I want to write more of these, maybe turn some of the longer scenes into chapters. But for now I hope you guys enjoy.

- - -

It was a mistake.

Bruce should have realized that fact as soon as the matter was proposed in the monthly JLA meeting, but the truth was that he hadn't wanted to. Jason was doing so well. He'd been a solid member of the Gotham vigilante community for going on two years. He'd stayed out of trouble as well as any former Robin could, that was to say not at all, but at least the Red Hood was respected as a hero and no longer condemned as a villain.

And possibly even better than Jason's progress from villain to hero, was Jason's progress from estrangement to established family member. Bruce was finally at a point in his relationship with his second son that he didn't wake up in a cold sweat with nightmares of it all falling to ruin. Jason was comfortable, he was committed, he was reliable in a way Bruce had dreamed as being possible but rarely dared hope for. Even with all of the reasons Jason had to be angry at and resentful of Batman, of the world in general, he'd chosen of his own accord to let that go for something better and Bruce was so proud of him for that. It wasn't instant and it wasn't easy, but after all this time, Jason's effort and sacrifice should be recognized and rewarded.

He thought this could act as something to that effect. And if it didn't appeal, Jason always had the option to say no. Many had in the past, including Jason's close friend Roy Harper.

So one evening after patrol, Bruce dismissed everyone from the cave except for Red Hood. His other children trundled up to the manor with varying levels of drowsiness as Jason waited, cooling his heels by idly spinning in one of the desk chairs at the bat-computer. He was an intimidating young man at the best of times and even the absence of his weapons and leather jacket, thrown over the back of the chair, the arms fluttering as he spun, didn't exactly help. Red Hood was all black body-armor and tactical gear over a body every bit as honed and skilled as Batman's. Perhaps he should have given Jason a chance to change out of his uniform, if only for Bruce's nerves, but he didn't anticipate a fight so it didn't exactly matter.

“So what's this about, old man?” Jason asked, a curious quirk of his head, disturbing the lock of white in his hair. Jason's tone was casual, but Bruce was familiar enough with his son to recognize an edge of anxiety at being singled out. Bruce figured he deserved that. When he took the time to speak as Batman with one of his children, he rarely had good news.

“As you know,” Bruce began, “last night I attended a JLA meeting. A number of matters were decided.”

“Okay,” Jason acknowledged, and by his carefully controlled expression he was suspicious. Despite their growing closeness, Jason was always certain he was one mistake away from ejection from Gotham and exile from the family. That was Bruce's failing, as a leader, as a father. He hoped what he had to present to Jason would go some way toward relieving those feelings.

“One of those matters was candidates for membership,” Bruce explained. “Jason, the JLA would like to formally invite the Red Hood to join the ranks of the Justice League Alliance.”

For a moment Jason stared at him, large hands gripping tight to the arms of the chair, the flickering of a muscle in his temple above his sea glass-green eyes revealing the rapidity with which his mind was analyzing Bruce's words.

“I...what?”  he finally asked, mouth drawn into a frown. “Is this...is this a joke?” Jason's words held a hint of anger, as if sensing this were a trick to hurt him, even if he couldn't see how.

Bruce shook his head. “Not at all. Diana nominated you, Green Arrow and Black Canary supported the nomination.”

Jason raised a brow, surprised. “Ollie did? I didn't think he liked me very much.”

“He doesn't exactly like Batman, either,” Bruce reminded him with a slight smile.

Bruce's reward for opening up was a wide smirk of amusement that took over Jason's face and reminded him of his son's Robin days.

Jason chuckled, “Well you're not exactly a ray of sunshine, B.”

“Hn,” he hummed.

Jason stood up from the computer chair and took a few steps as if to find room to breathe, a hand rising to rub at the back of his neck, his lips tight with difficult thoughts.

After some consideration, Jason looked up at Bruce, his casual facade brittle and showing it's cracks as he asked, “Why didn't you nominate me? Is it because...you don't think I'm good enough? Do you not want this?”

Despite the straight way in which Jason asked the question, Bruce knew this was important to him, knew the answer had the potential to break him wide open.

Bruce took a step closer and put a hand on Jason's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Pouring as much sincerity into his voice as he could, he assured his son, “Jay, you are absolutely good enough. You've proven it time and again. I didn't nominate you only because I didn't want to show favoritism towards my child, and because it simply wasn't necessary. I can't deny you've been unpredictable in the past, but the work you've been putting in the last year shows. You've been on the short list for a while now.”

Jason's voice cracked slightly as he said, “O-oh...” and ran a hand throw his hair in a gesture of anxiety. “I...it's not like I ever wanted this, ya know?”

Bruce nodded. “I know.”

Jason swallowed and weakly shrugged off Bruce's hand, gaze moving to look somewhere over his shoulder at the cave wall, maybe trying to convince himself of the fact as he stumbled over the words, “It's not like I care if you...if they...”

But Jason didn't need to convince Bruce of his self-sufficiency. He knew Jason was a strong person who did what he thought was right no matter the potential for risk or reward to either himself or his reputation. Jason would give up anything, anyone, even his family, even himself, if he thought it would save innocent lives. Bruce knew that—admired him for that. Jason didn't have anything to prove to Bruce on that score. Accepting or rejecting the offer wouldn't change that.

“You have every ability to turn down this invitation, Jason,” Bruce said, trying to explain, trying to reassure his son of his own strength. “I know you've never expressed an interest in joining the League, but I believe—the League believes—that you would be a valuable asset. Whether or not you want this, doesn't change that you deserve it. You don't have to decide now, and I'm here if you have any questions. I'm sure Dick, Barbara and Cassandra would love to talk about their experiences in the League as well, if you wanted to.”

Jason nodded vaguely. “I think I pretty much know everything. I've seen it from the outside for years.”

“True.” Of that Bruce had no doubts, he just wanted Jason to know he had resources to help him make a decision.

Jason sighed and looked up at the darkness of the cave ceiling as Bruce hovered, in case he was needed for something, anything. He didn't know what Jason could need from him, but he wanted to be there to give it.

“I want to do it, I think,” Jason said, appearing surprised at his own words, as if he hadn't realized that desire was in him until he'd voiced it. “Gotham's got a lot of vigilantes these days. The Outlaws are kind of defunct, to be honest. So...why not, ya know?”

Jason looked back at Bruce, his gaze intense as it always was, filled with passion and intelligence as he searched Bruce's face, trying to guess at his opinion.

Bruce simply nodded. “If that's what you want. I trust your decisions, Jay.”

At his words, Jason's expression slid into shock, eyes wide and vulnerable as he repeated, “You tru-trust...”

Halfway through the word Jason's voice cracked and his composure broke. His shoulders wilted inward and a hand hastily moved to conceal his eyes as they started to glisten with moisture. Jason's jaw became tight with tension, his lower lip quivering with the effort to remain silent as the tears began to fall down his cheak. Bruce felt a clenching in his heart and stepped forward, his own hands rising uselessly as he hesitated, trying to decide if this was a moment when Jason would want to be touched.

Luckily Jason took the decision away from him when he surprised Bruce by falling against his chest and wrapping him in a tight hug. Giving in to his own feelings, Bruce returned the embrace, squeezing closely the body that was now of a size with his own but which he could still remember being so small. They didn't do this very often. Bruce couldn't even remember the last time he'd held his second son, but he was suddenly aware that he wanted to do it more, and perhaps optimistically, he thought that opportunity was one Jason might be open to.

But for the time being, he just hugged Jason and combed his fingers through his son's hair and let him break down so he could build himself back up better. For so long Jason had seen himself as broken. For nearly as long Bruce had seen him as broken. But Jason hadn't been broken, he was just deeply hurt, and though the scars would always remain his son had healed. He'd thought of Jason that way for a while now. Maybe with this, Jason would start to see it too.

In the moment, none of this felt like a mistake, it felt like a wonderful gift. Perhaps 'mistake' was too harsh a word, because Bruce didn't actually regret any of what took place this night. And truth to tell, he regretted little of what happened after as well. What he did know was with this decision, Bruce's life had become condemned to a new level of misery.

Because by this time tomorrow, half of the Justice League would be in love or lust with Jason Todd.

#I might start posting to AO3 under the title 'Jay-Crazy' #Jason Todd #red Hood #Bruce Wayne #Batman #prologue #fanfic #Everyone Crushing on Jason AU #angst? #hurt/comfort? #something like that

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 41 - TBL - Warm Bodies

6-4 Regulation Loss

The season is now halfway over. It’s also got halfway to go. I suppose it’s a glass half full, half empty kinda situation. I imagine the first half of this season has evoked some pretty strong feelings along those lines of optimism and pessimism one way or the other. There’s a lot to unpack there and Midseason Thoughts will be out tomorrow so read that. This is only going to be an incomplete lookback on the first half that was. After all, there was a New Year’s Eve game last night and a big narrative coming into that game. Jeff Skinner got injured in one of the games against Boston and here we find ourselves once again down another forward. And here comes the snide remarks about the surplus of defenseman that don’t really help the problem with forwards dropping like flies. Well guess what: I’m there. I’m ready to be mad about this shit too! It’s January when you’re reading this. January 2020! Jason Botterill was hired in May 2017. He’s closing in on three years on the job. Sure he didn’t get the coaching choice right the first go around and we restarted the rebuild and yatta yatta yatta; but how has Rebuild 2.0 gone so… uh… terribly? There were poultry changes in summer 2018 after the accidentally super shit season that got us Rasmus Dahlin and then in 2019… uh… he moved out Nylander for Jokiharju. You can’t look past the Jeff Skinner trade and signing, the risk and reward of that, but barring the Henri Jokiharju trade that was far and away his best move. The defense is changed but the forward ranks are… actually remarkably similar to Dan Blysma’s last game behind the bench. That whole conversation was brewing and then came the Skinner injury. The Sabres are now the furthest out of a playoff spot they’ve been all season at five points back. That’s something we’ll talk about in Midseason thoughts. The team was up and down in the first half but mostly down. Meanwhile everyone is sorta thinking one move for a top six forward saves the day. True or not we were hungry for a move when… *drum roll*… Rochester American Dalton Smith is signed to a two-way contract so he can be called up to the NHL… uh… say what now?

This is literally the kinda thing you joke about a lazy General Manager doing. At first glance he’s just a goon you’re signing for the kinda things boomers dribble about on Facebook: he’ll bring grit to a roster the Coach and GM say doesn’t need any more grit! Smith wasn’t at Training Camp you see! His game is improved dramatically you see! He’s got… lots of penalty minutes in the AHL! Okay, I give up. I don’t know what they’re doing now. If you’re going to tell me with a straight face Smith was brought up as a Skinner replacement I guess I’ll agree he is in fact a warm body. This is just a team of Jack Eichel and a bunch of warm bodies right now anyway, eh? The most logical answer is a very unwelcomed one: the idea he was brought in to “take care of unfinished business” with the Tampa Bay Lightning. That is, the Sabres needed a guy to avenge the Dahlin injury back in November. So we used up a contract on a guy to come up from the A to punch Erik Cernak in the face? Is that the plan? Look Jason, we understand trades maybe risky, but we’d prefer you make one before going with the lowest common denominator within the organization. Remember a dozen games back or so when I theorized it was never the plan for the team to make the playoffs this season? I put together some pieces including the opinion of John Vogl who said exactly this. The huge salary opening this summer allow a lot of room for movement… but they’re also somehow in cap hell too? Is that what’s stopping you from taking this season seriously, Jason? The theory is basically confirmed now and I’m not going to lie: I am very turned off by it all. Other NHL clubs should take note: this is how you turn off your fanbase. You’re already on a pretty ugly skid? Make a really bad roster move when the obvious choice is clear as day for all to see and make it about fighting. Honestly, who was dying to see Dalton Smith fight Erik Cernak? Whose opinion of this club’s season is now changing because of him skating four shifts all game and almost getting into a scuffle? We even got a video of Cernak getting fighting pointers from a teammate at the Bolts practice! You have one of the most talented rosters of the decade coming to town for a New Year’s Eve game your billing as a big deal and you’re intending to give them a punching match? To top it all off about an hour before puck drop Joe Yerdon at the Athletic broke the news that Evan Rodrigues asked for a trade upping that number to three players who want out. Summer 2019 Sabres twitter would have gone to Defcon 5 with that news but five months without a GM has made us cold, hopeless husks. On that cheerful note, let’s do that hockey!

To be clear I am not, nor have I ever been a hockey player. Anyone who makes the NHL, even for a single game like Dalton Smith, is a better athlete than I will ever be. Each and every player on that ice could murder me quite easily. However what unfolded in the first and third periods of this game was a glorified badminton match. The shots were 10-3 in favor of Buffalo in the first, but the game did not even kinda look that way. At least two of those Bolts shots were off the post, the team MVP candidate hot on Jack Eichel’s heels. Ding-Ding-Ding. The Sabres got another impotent powerplay early on after Steven Stamkos tripped Eichel. Ralph Krueger did a very interesting interview this morning on WGR550 where he was asked about the lackluster powerplay. One quote sticks out: “Whether we score or not [on the powerplay] is irrelevant.” There is very little additional context needed, that’s the quote. He was making a point about how even fruitless powerplay help team confidence 5 on 5. I’m no hockey coach either but… uh… I think that’s some motivational bullshit, Ralph. Luckily I didn’t actually rear end the car ahead of me in the Tim Hortons drive thru when I heard that line. The slight edge the home team developed in this game became apparent late in the first and the Sabres got a goal almost by accident. Curtis Lazar peeled a puck off the Lightning as they attempted to exit the zone and shot it over to Conor Sheary. Sheary, tardy on getting out of the zone evidently, almost one-timed it and the shot snuck past Andrei Vasilevskiy to put Buffalo up 1-0.

Steven Stamkos and Jack Eichel both had shocking misses in the first; like wow, you had the whole net and didn’t get it in kinda misses. Both visibly realized their mistakes. In the second period Conor Sheary got an early assist when he put the puck on net where Marcus Johansson edged the puck in. All of the sudden the Sabres were up 2-0 and I doubt many of those assembled in Key Bank Arena thought this would be the way it would go based off everything going on off ice. Linus Ullmark and a tough defensive scheme wouldn’t hold up forever and almost inevitably Andrei Palat shot one in five hole. The powerplay goal for Tampa felt as mocking as it did inevitable. But then somewhere deep down in this team they revived the clap-back energy, just for a little bit. A minute later Jimmy Vesey takes the puck over after a fortuitous bounce and gets his first goal since the dawn of time. If you took even a minute to be shocked you’d be forgiven but you’d miss Jake McCabe doing what Dalton Smith got an NHL contract for: fighting! McCabe got into a bloody boxing match with Andrei Sergachev after a hit on Eichel he took issue with. To be fair to the cavemen not reading this, Dalton Smith did have a little spat with a player in a white jersey earlier in the period, but McCabe was the one who really brought your almighty grit. The lengthy penalty record now somehow put the Sabres on the penalty kill. Enter Jack Eichel stripping a Tampa forward on a botched pass before charging down the ice, undressing two defenseman and a goalie to backhand it in for the 4-1 lead and a shorthanded goal. That was at about the halfway point of the game. That beautiful Jack Eichel goal that will certainly be in the season highlight reel… was halfway through this game. Before the second period ended the disaster would begin: five unanswered goals started with another powerplay goal for Alex Killorn followed by Tyler Johnson snipe about three minutes later. The second period ended 4-3 Buffalo. The game would end 6-4 Tampa. The Lightning completed their season sweep of the Sabres in a comeback fitting of the next level shitty decade this club just concluded. Shattenkirk, Killorn again and then Anthony Cirelli with an empty netter, I’m not going to torture you with the details, it’s easy to imagine how that went just off experience.

Like, comment and share this blog. Tomorrow we’ll be discussing the first half of the season in Midseason Thoughts. We’ll be looking ahead to the back 41 games as well although it seems very clear they don’t matter to the Front Office. This club is within spitting distance of a playoff spot and are posturing to try and get further off by the end of the month. When I say this team is a collection of warm bodies and Jack Eichel, I mean it! I think I speak for a large swath of this fanbase when I say I’ve lost confidence. A move was necessary six months ago, but it never came. Sure I still like the Coach but if he’s going to pass off motivational smart talk as a definitive strategy for a hockey team to win enough games to make the postseason even he is going to lose me at some point! Tomorrow we get Edmonton coming to town and I doubt they’ll succumb to the Sabres quite as easily as last time. I have no more confidence in this club and honestly I feel like they’ll need to win us back when there is a playoff team in town! Well… that’s all folks. Happy New Year! Talk to you tomorrow. Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. The Winter Classic was fun this year. I wish somebody had told me Dallas and Nashville hated each other two years ago.

#buffalo sabres #nhl #hockey #blog

[xo-dailypier-blog]

Hey People!

     It’s been such a long time since I’ve posted anything. But can you guys blame me? It’s been such a snore fest in Santa Monica, I almost just left you guys to you own devices to let you find out all the dirt by yourselves. But we couldn’t have that, can we?

     Anyways, while I don’t have a complete recap of the things going on (not that theirs anything interesting), you guys have sent me your BURNING CHLAMYDIA-LIKE questions that have piqued by interests. 

I would say things in this town are getting set in motion, but only time will tell…

But before we get into the questions, two things: 

1.) Everyone take a moment to say Happy Mother’s Day to QUEEN Phobe! Hopefully she’s been picking up her child from daycare. Am I right, guys? 

Hopefully you guys said HMD to your Mo -- Oh, Yikes ... um Moving on...

2.) Congratulations are in order! You guys voted and our Hottie of the Moment has been chosen…

     It’s none other than: Jason “Daddy” Sorrentino! With his ripped bod, and killer smile, Daddy Sorrentino has captured the hearts of Santa Monica one day at a time. I didn’t vote for him (I was torn between him and Daddy Lancaster, so I sat this one out), but it’s really no surprise. I mean, have you seen him? Ugh, soy hott. 

When asked about his Award Winning Hotness, Daddy had this to say:

“Everyone wanted to know what I’d do if I didn’t win, guess we’ll never know” (Jason Sorrentino, 2019).

... We love original quotes ..... Anyways! Let’s A some Q’s, yeah?

Q: singordie94 asked...

What is the Lipton on Myles Bennett and Julian Stark? The people are talking about seeing them at a bar eye fucking each other? What’s going on, DP? 

A: Hey singordie94,

     Sighhh, Shark Boy and Lava Top. Ok, so as we know, Myles gets pegged. Very progressive, love that for him. Now, the RUMOR (keyword) is that he ditched the strap and tried out the real thing with one Julian Stark. This, allegedly, happened a few months back according to sources close to the subject(s). Sadly, I honestly don’t believe this, this just sounds like fan fiction. Myles has a loving girl friend back home in Texas. It is PREPOSTEROUS to think our little sea critter would be a LIAR. I mean, could you guys really imagine OUR Myles letting Julian go snorkeling in HIS (chocolate) sea? HANG TEN in his boygina? Go KOWABUNGA in that ass??? (Let’s be honest, if this actually happened, there is no way anyone would actually believe that Myles was on top, we’ve seen him in his sea-diving-catsuit-thing, and … momma’s thicc with it). Anyways, I guess I’ll keep an eye on them just in case. But Myles just isn’t the type to cheat/leave his southern belle crying into the butter she has to churn for supper in the middle of her Amish village. (I’m assuming everyone in Texas is Amish. Look, I don’t know what the fuck goes on there, and honestly? I don’t care). Bottom line (tehehehe) is that Myles has his true love, the deep blue sea, and CHRIST as his main priorities, nothing more. Thanks for the question, singordie94, I’ll keep an eye out for ZESTY activity, but don’t hold your breath (like Myles did when he deep throated Julian, ALLEGEDLY).

Q: AshersBabyMomma asked...

Can we get an Aldridge update?

A: Well, AshersBabyMomma (cute name btw),

Keeping up with the Aldridge’s has been pretty dull this season.

Alex is, naturally, chasing after Award Winning Hottie, Jason. Their tumultuous relationship is one I’ll have to keep an eye on. You would think they were together by the way they interact, one minute their woohoo-ing in the back of an Uber and the next they need space? Maybe they should just call it quits? And apparently Alex was seen getting cozy with Logan Lancaster. I’m told that there was some serious flirting going on???? I heard that Jason totally came up in conversation too, and Logan called him like, a pussy, or something? (Fighting Words!!!) Whatever he said the two laughed about it, as they continued vibing. And to be honest? I kind of ship it. I mean I am obviously the president of the SorrentinHOEs, but ya girl Alex needs some stability. And hello??? Logan is as stable as they come! Daddy Sorrentino might be perfect at everything else, but maybe he should sit on the bench when it comes to Alex, Logan is scoring too high for him to keep up. #LoLex

Crackhead Asher is one that keeps getting written in about, though. A little bird told me, well, several little birds have told me that they’ve seen a guy (with a striking resemblance to our fav) out with several different guys since he’s been here in Santa Monica. I feel like Asher is a little fruity but is this something he would keep from his family? His twin? I feel like they would care less about this and more about his trips to San Diego to buy METH. The Quality Kind. Hmm, I suppose I’ll have to set up cameras inside his house, too, just to see if this story checks out. I’ll keep you posted.

The only Aldridge that matters is the MATRIARCH herself, Alegenda Aldridge. When she PUMPED IT into Santa Monica in kitten heels (because only SLUTS wear stilettos) I knew that she would be the saving grace of this DEMONIC town. We Stan Alegenda in this household, which is why If you use code SharkTop with your next purchase at Blush Boutique — The Anti-Fashionova, you’ll get 10% off, courtesy of The Daily Pier. Go on and immerse yourselves in the most sanctified of garmets, those floor length khaki skirts aren’t gonna wear themselves! Let’s hope that Alegenda does not fall into the EVIL clutches that have her siblings, and let’s hope that she can, instead, EXERCISE the DEMONS on her siblings KNEECAPS.

But honestly, who am I kidding. I enjoy her efforts, but in this town? She’ll probably be smoking the same crack rock as Asher by the end of the month. Tragic. I’ll keep you posted, AshersBabyMomma.

Q: dddonewiththebullshit asked...

I KNOW THAT JAMIE FUCKING CARTER READS THIS FUCKING BLOG AND I JUST WANT HIM TO FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVE HAD IT UP TO MOTHER FUCKING HERE WITH HIS GOD DAMNED NOISE. HE IS THE MOST INCONSIDERATE NEIGHBOR EVER!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE TO DEAL WITH HIM CONSTANTLY WAKING UP MY PUPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE HES CONSTANTLY BRINGING THE ENTIRETY OF SANTA MONICA BACK TO HIS PLACE TO BANG THE FUCK OUT OF THEM LOUD ENOUGH FOR THE ENITRE BLOCK TO HEAR, AND NOW I HAVE TO HEAR HIM FIGHTING WITH SOME TWINK!!!!!!!!!! ABOUT SOME FUCKING!!!!! PAINT!!!!!!! BRUSHES!!!!!!! HE DOESNT DESERVE RIGHTS, AND I WANT HIM DEAD. #ELECTRICCHAIR

A: I…. Hello?

     This is the only negative thing I’ve gotten about Jamie since I’ve started following him. If hoards of you thirst buckets aren’t writing in about want to “operate his ride” then you’re saying how he looks like a math teacher and you’d like to show him an acute angle (with your legs). Wait, is that last part just me? Yikes, this is awkward. Anyways, it’s true. Jamie and Mackenzie Westwood (the twink in question) dated for like 5 months, and when Mac ended things (because Jamie couldn’t commit) he packed his things and left. Apparently he forgot his paint brushes after his departure so he tried to BREAK INTO Jamie’s house and take them. And I guess they got into a fight. Based on the voice memos I got, it got pretty intense. Some people wrote in asking if Jamie got shot.

     Yeah he got shot … with love. The repressed feeling jumped out! This whole fight was laced with PASSION and I was waiting for them to rip each other’s clothes off and wake up your puppy (again). They TOTES still love each other. I mean hello??? Amazon Prime is right there and you choose to commit grand theft PAINTBRUSH on a random night, Mackenzie???? Give me a BREAK!

     I just hope that this doesn’t interfere with his work, and like, distract him while he’s operating a ride. Wouldn’t want him to ALSO cause a major accident which could kill people. #shade

I guess the final question I got a lot is what couple(s) I ship. And off the top of my head, my top 5 are ... Hmmm, I’ll have to say:

Well obvs, #LoLex

June Armstrong and an Exterminator. The Doll has roaches, and it’s fucking GROSS!!! Someone said she’s become acquainted with them and knows them by name. What a CREEP. Get an exterminator girl, know him by name. And while we’re on the topic of June, The Doll. I see right through her “innocent act”, I heard she hid a razor blade in her mouth in High School, and when she got into a fight one time, she SLICED her opponent. People who went to school with June contact me, and give me the scoop on this.

OLIVA AND DIANA ARE THE LESBIAN POWER COUPLE WE NEED!! I DONT NEED TO ELABORATE ON THIS, MAKE IT HAPPEN LADIES.

(and 5, I guess) And I am torn between Wes/Diana and Wes/Iris. You see, Diana and Wes have history and just thinking about them and all that they’ve been through, the fact that they can find solace through each other’s arms just …. sorry I need a moment. 

But Wes and Iris, it’s just … ugh … the flavors. Both of their pasts have been pretty hard, and I would love to see Iris in a happy relationship. Especially after that Sebastian guy (don’t ask).

So these are MY to watch list, lets hope something becomes of it! 

And with that, that concludes my comeback post, I guess. Hope you didn’t fall asleep reading this. And if you managed to to not be mentioned in this post, don’t you worry, this is only just the beginning. 

xo, DP

#dp recap #drug mention tw

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sway Pt.3 - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Here / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Author’s Note: This is more...  set up... than anything. This was only meant to be the start of Part 3, then I had to split Part 3 into Part 3 & 4... So they’re meant to be read together... Really. Uh, The car picture is literally cuz I needed another picture, having said that your car does get an unprecedented amount of attention in this chapter. ALSO, did anyone else realize that I’ve written 2 parts to this supposed romance, but haven’t written a kiss yet!?! Let’s change that!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but “You” (Well, not you!) and my OCs. I know nothing about restaurants. Jason can now do a bit of everything because I said so. Whilst your age is never really stated I have ‘you’ at late 20s/early 30s in my head... Probably as many years between you and Danny as there is between you and Nolan (?) You’ll notice sometimes the restaurant is closed at odd times... I think Danny would sometimes choose to have half days, or days when it was open in the evening only, etc...

Premise: You get a surprise introduction to Nolan Rayburn... Danny takes you for a lunch date... I finally write an actual kiss scene! That’s it, that’s the part

Word Count: 6613 

Warnings: None? The usual Rayburn family drama... Casual swearing? Sex is mentioned fleetingly?

Someday we're gonna blink twice Say it happens like that How much money we saved up For the time that we gave up Well, it'll all just be math

I know I'm only human Don't know how many sunsets I got left And I don't wanna ruin This moment by wondering what comes next I just want to love you Like it's all I'm living for Hold you close, enjoy you more And spend a little less time keeping score

----

So can I dance with you And take a chance with you Maybe start a running through the rain romance with you Baby, catch our own little winning streak, you and me

Wednesday, 12:30pm - Viva Caputa, Miami

Javier whistled as the sleek silver Porsche rolled into the Viva Caputa parking lot; "Oy! Danny!! We’ve got company. And by company I mean biggggg spending company…!" Javi could hear Danny laugh from the kitchen "What!?" "I mean someone just pulled up in a Porsche 911…!" Javier continued cleaning glasses, lunch today wasn't slow it was just everyone in his section seemed content. The front door opened and he looked up.  She was in a casual blue and white shirt with short, but not a shade off modest, shorts. Her sandals had a small wedge heel and the bag slung over her shoulder was designer. “Amorcita!” Though true Javier had only seen her once, he felt like he knew enough about her from Danny’s constant chatter to address her so informally. It was rare Danny's love affair ever looked anything less than immaculate and even casual today was no exception. She smiled at him and leant across the counter “Hi... Is Danny in?” He whistled. “Did you just ask for Danny!? You're lucky lunch time isn't that busy today... Lemmie check!” he turned “Hey! Danny! It's been a hot-hot minute but I guess you were right! She is asking for you!” This was clearly a conversation you had missed as Danny poked his head curiously out of the kitchen window; “Y/N...! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... Just give me two seconds...” You sat down at the bar “Am I missing something?” “No... But I am. Are you seeing each other now!?” Javier looked from the bar to the kitchen, eyebrow raised You tilted your head with a mysterious little smile “And what if we are?” “Well DAMN!” Javier put his hands on his hips “Like a serious thing? Not like a Danny thing?” “No... Like... A serious thing.” Not that you knew what a ‘Danny Thing’ was… “I thought so... The second he came in that Saturday talking about you I knew it was either going to never happen or be a serious thing. It was the WAY he talked. I've never seen Danny like that about anyone... It was nice to see...” That at least made you proud of yourself. “I’m Javier. I think you knew that… You’re clearly Y/N… It’s good to meet you… again.” You returned his greeting as he looked expectantly out of the door, and then craned around the bar you were sitting at with a huff; “What’s up?” “So, this Porsche 911 pulls up in our lot, I just want to see who's spending all the money here today. At least that’s what we’ll be hoping for.” “Oh!” You laughed “Well, you’re talking to her.” He stared at you for a good ten seconds before blinking fast; “Sorry!? What!?” He shook his head “How!?” You sighed, “Because… My last name is Ervin? I guess?” “Ervin!? Ervin! – Only a name you see on nearly every street in Miami. With the way you speak Spanish!?” “Well, it’s my dad’s mom who is Argentine. His dad is American.” “…His name is Jack.” Javier was clearly brushed up on the lofty heights of the Prime Movers in Miami real estate. “No… To blend in with his Miami high rise living his name is Jack, Jack is an adaption of John which in Spanish is Juan.” You smiled “His birth name. My mom is half-American half-Puerto-Rican. Maria Velez. Very Hispanic.” “…How come the Harrison part?” It was Danny that voiced the question, joining Javier behind the bar. “J. Harrison? He’s one of my dad’s best friends and essentially helped him build the business – his first investor. He’s responsible for the property development part. We were just going to be real estate.” “...So... not really by himself.” Danny folded his arms and his smile proved his point. “Okay, Smart-ass. But Jorge was never actually a part of the business. My dad put his name in in honour of him. So. Actually. By himself!” “EY! Like Danny and this place!” Javi jogged his friends’ shoulder “Yeah, hardly of calibre Javi, but a guy can dream!” Danny turned to you “Shouldn’t you be at work?” “I was accounting and auditing for my dad this morning. I’m heading to work after this I just wanted to stop by and say Hi. I haven’t seen you since… Last Monday.” “Hah. You’re lucky I got back alive from the Keys after that!” You leant on your elbows and smirked; “So I’m causing you trouble now?” “Well. Darlin’.” He too leant across the bar “You’re the kinda trouble I could get into.” You had a sneaking suspicion those were song lyrics. In which Javier almost burst out laughing; “God! Will you two get a room!” **

Saturday, 9pm  - Your Apartment, Uptown Miami

Thinking back to the previous Monday night almost had you in stitches. And as you recounted the scene to Amanda and Evelyn one night over glasses of wine at your apartment it all came flooding back. Amanda still lamenting, but secretly proud, that you were now indeed confirmed to be dating Danny Rayburn and Evelyn finding it hilarious that you had broken your one golden rule, but she did add ‘on a good choice.’ It had been eventful, politely so but you knew the undertones of that politeness were far from nice. Every question fielded to you and Danny were accusations, harsh, like you should both feel guilty about what you had. Even though, your parents were always quick to jump in to field them right back, you were thankful for their 12 years of experience.

John was the nicest, he wanted to know more about you, considering he’d heard a lot. It was strange, almost like he was the oldest instead of Danny, you got the feeling he was really testing if you fit well for his brother. By his tone of voice, you assumed he’d concluded you’d passed the test. His family were also the best thing about the evening. His two kids, Ben and Janey, literally wanted to know everything. But every line of questioning from them was innocent, everyone else on that table had an agenda. By no means were you treated as harshly as Danny was; which is why you started answering for him. You got the feeling they were niggling at him to make some kind of mistake. Or, for him to say something you might not like, but no one was perfect. It irked you that they would treat him like this.

When you weren’t the centre of attention and you could really focus on him, it was like the noise was completely drowned out. You were half paying attention to the conversation and followed all the cues, laughing in the right places and saying all the right filler words... But you were looking at each other more than at who was speaking. You watched his reaction to everything that was said. He could tell you a lot of things he didn’t like about his family, but his body language would have said it all for you. He was always studying you, you knew that. You weren’t sure why, you looked like you came from the same place - you guessed you just didn’t end up in the same place. There was an unspoken reason why... You would leave it to Danny to choose when would be the most appropriate time for that. At more than one point he caught your legs between his, pulling your feet to rest up on his knees he ran his fingers nonchalantly across your skin; it relaxed you, and it felt good to have that physical contact with him again.

He’d answered a bunch of your parents questions the night before, and he’d seemed to have a genuinely good time. Heck, he’d even dressed up for the occasion and brought your mom flowers and your dad a good bottle of wine from the house. It was enough. You’d all been sat there talking way into the night and you couldn’t help but think your parents might actually adore him. They told him a lot of stories about you that got almost too personal, sending you into more fits of embarrassment that had you covering your face and him laughing and taking your hands again.

Tonight, Danny was asking questions of your parents. They were good, well thought out questions you felt he’d likely been preparing nearly all day. But none of them were anything less than respectful and your parents enjoyed answering them. Keen to turn all of Danny’s talking points into conversation - and successfully - you knew then that they indeed adored him. Danny didn’t come from nothing but he had built from nothing, as they had. Your father had admiration for that and had already began to make plans concerning frequenting the restaurant. Clients of your father’s there? Danny could be no more grateful. When dinner was over and the three of you were leaving, Danny caught you by the door again, this time with a real goodnight kiss. “I’ll likely be heading off earlier than you tomorrow. So have a safe trip back.” “Yeah, and you!” You embraced him tight to you, trying to get the feeling of last night one more time. “I’ll call you, when I get back and we’ll go out...” He pondered, “doesn’t have to be a restaurant... maybe I’ll take you a little out of Miami one weekend...” “A weekend getaway? I could go for that...” “Believe you me, me too. And my staff will be more than grateful for another weekend without me!” He grinned “It’ll be good for all of us.” “Okay! I look forward to your call.” “Aw, well. I look forward to making it...” *** It wasn’t more than a few weeks later that you were sitting at home, legs swinging from a bar stool, studying some work documents on your laptop -  with Danny. He had a day off, and had finally made the trip across town (in his own car no less!) to your apartment. You could only remember him being here once before. And you remembered bringing him up here. The way he had eyed everything with more than just a little hesitation. How he’d stood by your front door for at least 5 minutes taking everything in. You understood that, you were finally introducing him to your world. Corporate city girl in her uptown Miami high-rise apartment, college degree, good job and parent’s money. Although, you yourself tried to make a good honest living on your own back, and not through your parents… It wasn’t always easy; your friends were nearly all from this fantasy land because those were the circles your family moved in. Which is why you liked places like Little Havana, and why you loved being with Danny… and his friends… who brought you back down to Earth. But you already understood that he had many years on you and all that experience… and yet his apartment was barely a third of the size of yours.

He was sat across from you drawing up some other plans for his restaurant. You’d heard him mention expanding before, but you weren’t sure how serious he was. Suddenly something in one of your work documents made you look at him; “Danny.” “Yes…” His eyes met yours, clearly grateful for conversation. “Are you Danny or Daniel?” His look said Danny… Obviously, so you clarified. “No, I mean. On your birth certificate. Were you born Danny or Daniel?” “…Daniel…” The suspicion in his voice let you know he wondered where this was going. “Daniel Rayburn… That still suits you…” “No it doesn’t.” He was dismissive. “I LIKE Daniel.” He narrowed his eyes at you, “I love Danny too! I just don’t know what is wrong with it.” He pondered this for a minute “No one has never really called me Daniel before, not even when I was in trouble… It’s strange to me…” “Daniel. It’s nice.” You tried it out again. His expression changed and you knew he was trying desperately hard not to smile; “…Well… I like the way you say it…” You looked back to your laptop with a giggle “Alright. Smooth talker… Daniel what? Daniel… Rayburn… What is your middle name?” He hesitated and his face fell… He bit his lips together and you knew that he wasn’t going to be forthcoming with the information. You guessed that could mean one thing; he was the eldest son. If his family was as super traditional as you guessed they were, then that would mean his middle name was his father’s name. And from what you knew about his relationship with his father, he would rather forget it. “What’s your middle name?” His question threw you off, but you still told him no hesitation. “… Y/N… M/N… Ervin.” He nodded, but it wasn’t in satisfaction – he was asking just because you had, you supposed. “…It’s your dad’s name. Isn’t it?” Part of you didn’t mean to say it out loud, but you had. “Daniel Robert Rayburn.” He sounded bitter as he looked to the table. You took a breath, determined to get that smile you loved so much back; “So…. Danny.” He looked back to you, to that look in your eyes that said the conversation was over. Period. “Yeah. So, Danny... but who knows...” and he smiled that beyond adorable crooked smile he had “...Maybe I’ll let Daniel stick.”

 ***

Friday, 3pm - Viva Caputa, Miami “So what do you think?” Danny had his hand poised over the piece of paper, permanent marker held purposefully in his left hand. “You need to stop asking me about your restaurant.” “I just… the menu needs sprucing up and YOU’RE the business woman!” “You’re the chef!” “Yeah so…!” He waved his hand at the dishes he’d just made you try “…Make some executive decisions, I’ve DONE my work!” “Well, shouldn’t it be based on what you like…!” He sighed and put his head in his hands “Yeah, I like it all. That’s why I made it. You’re the customer, which ones.” “All is off the table then?” “Y/N! I asked you because I expect you to be able to tell me which ones are best, you can certainly tell me when you don’t like it!” “Well, I like all of these.” “If you HAD to!” “I’m not even sure I’m your optimal audience.” You weren’t sure if you liked the next look he gave you or not, he took a sharp inhale of breath; “I don’t know. Young professional, 30-something, brunch-time, female. Good group of friends. Good family life. GREAT social life.” He pointed his pen at you “BETTER sex life.” “My god.” You almost turned away from him at that. “Actually has a decent set of taste buds – will you just CHOSE!” “Are all these young professionals also in a relationship?” “…Oh…” he folded his arms and leant back against the kitchen counter “Is that what this is!?” he raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Don’t you DARE Daniel Rayburn!” “Oh god! Now I’m in trouble!” He sent his eyes heavenwards “Daniel… Honestly…” “Damn right you’re in trouble…” You smiled and turned back to the set of meticulously thought out dishes in front of you… He knew you weren’t good at deciding, so you weren’t even sure why he wanted you to do this. You were also big on sweet things… and Danny wasn’t really that kind of cook. “…Okay… Let me think about this from a menu planning stand point…” “Finally she’s talking my language…” “What are we taking off?” “Anything similar or isn’t selling well.” “What in this establishment doesn’t sell well!?” “Oh there’s a few things I can cut in favour of these.” “What if these don’t sell well.” “Guess I’ll have to fire my consultant.” He smiled across at you. You stared at each of them hard in turn and Danny tapped the pen against the paper again in anticipation. “Okay. These.” You pointed four out and then looked to him to see if he agreed with your decision. His smile was teasing and he still hadn’t put pen to paper yet; “Are you sure?” “DANNY!” “I mean are you reaaaaally sure?” “STOP IT!” He laughed, and began writing; “Geez, when this restaurant goes under I’m going to look right back to this moment…” You smacked his arm as he continued laughing and began writing out menu descriptions “…Fancy my consultant killing my business…” “Girlfriend.” You pouted; “Well.” He lent across the counter and leant on his hands “I’m starting to think she’s a little more than that…” “Danny…” You could felt yourself heat up again as he stared at you, and that crooked little smirk happened across his face “Don’t worry Y/N I’m not about to get down on one knee or anything!” That only made your cheeks flush more. He shook his head and closed the gap between the two of you with a sweet kiss; “Dammit you look so good when you get all flustered.” “Well you can only thank yourself!” Your eyes were still wide at the thought of Danny EVER proposing to anyone, let alone you. “I do on multiple occasions, you just don’t always hear it.” He winked, looking proud of himself, before he kissed you gently again. And then you both heard the restaurant door open – which you thought was odd because no one was due in until Danny started up for dinner tonight.

 “DAD!” “SHIT.” Danny pulled away from you suddenly and a look crossed his face you didn’t quite understand; “Shit. I forgot. Shit. God…” He started towards the doors quickly, then at the last second he turned back “Stay here!” This all happened very fast and left you blinking and trying to get a grip on what was going on… DAD!? You waited a few seconds, before curiosity got the better of you and you’d deal with Danny’s potential anger later. Hopping off the stool you padded over to the kitchen window – the door was of course just out of sight – which is where they were both talking; “…So I figured you’d be here…” “Yeah, I… I’m sorry I forgot. It won’t happen again.” “Yeah, I’m sure mom would love that.” “You didn’t TELL her?!” “No. I came straight here… I tried calling though.” “Dammit. My phone’s in my locker.” “You don’t open for hours. What are you doing here?” “Putting together new menu pieces… actually.” “Why? What’s wrong with the menu?” You looked to the kitchen door… deeply curious. That was not the voice of some little kid either. You walked over to the kitchen door and pushed it open gently. Maybe you could be inconspicuous about this… You nearly rounded the corner to the main restaurant when you realised Danny was facing away from you. Stopping just short, you poked your head around the corner. He was a lot older than just a kid, possibly a high school teenager. Black hair, piercings, jewellery, black jeans and over-shirt over shirt (Well. He probably got that from his father.) – Danny had a son? Why had Danny never told you this?! Was it an age gap thing?! You got caught up in your own worries just watching this kids’ interactions with Danny. “…You’ve got keys to the apartment; just go back I’ll finish up here and come back. If you’ve got home work...” “Well, I could just wait in the car… It’s a bit of a trek, Dad.” “…Yeah okay… Sure… I’ll have to get my car keys… It’ll take me about 10-20 max. I’m sorry, I should have been there… I really should have…” “It’s okay… It happens, I knew you’d probably be here when you didn’t answer the phone and…” The teen trailed off as he realised you were standing there… His eyes went wide and his mouth made the OH! that didn’t actually come out. Danny turned to see what he was looking at and for once, for once in his life he actually looked scared – it was a flicker and it came and it went but he looked scared – then stoic, then his kid started up; “Oh-! Oh-! I uh-! I- I can leave--!” “NO! NO!” Danny was on it, quick as a shot “NO! Nolan! You’re not going anywhere! It’s okay! It’s not--! I just--! Give me a second here to explain! I just---!” he put his hands on Nolan’s shoulders “Just, please, just wait a second…!” He turned back to you, now looking between them. You were making a lot of guesses about what young Danny would have looked like based on this teen. No doubt he was Danny’s son. He looked back to Nolan “Just. Wait here. Please.” “O-Okay…” Danny kept his hands on him for a few more seconds and once he was assured Nolan wasn’t going anywhere, he crossed back to you – grabbing your arm he pulled you back around the corner forcefully; “WHAT DID I JUST SAY!” No doubt he was angry, because he’s SCARED! you realised, he wasn’t shouting at you either “You told me to stay where I was.” You pointed behind you “That’s hardly the point Danny! Why didn’t you TELL me!” “Because you’re going to do EXACTLY what everyone else does!” “…” you dropped your accusational stance and almost took a step back “…Oh…my…You think I’m going to LEAVE!?” You kept your voice to the same whispering level he was at. “… Well, yeah, at this point I kinda expect it.” “Well then none of those girls was any good for you!” Upon realising you had actually taken a step back you took one forward again and took his face in your hands “Danny I DON’T care!” “You’re saying that NOW.” “No. I’m gonna mean it, I’m not saying it’s not going to take time…” You leant so you could just about see around the corner… Danny followed your lean. Nolan had seated himself nervously at one of the tables, tapping his foot and biting his lips together. See, he even had his father’s nervous habits. “…What happened?” “Y/N…That is a long story I don’t want to drag you into.” “Tough. I’m in it… His name is Nolan?” “Yes.” “Well, I’ll say this is a bit of a shock for both of us…” “Probably.” You flicked your eyes back to him; “And you’re scared we’re both about to walk out that front door.” “That’s my life.” You hated the way he said it; guilt flooded his voice & his eyes like every bad thing that had ever happened to him was his fault. “…I mean I knew you had something… All those moving boxes in your apartment told a story… I’m just not sure this is what I expected.” You pushed your head gently against Danny’s chest and wound your arms around him; as if to prove you weren’t going anywhere “…We can talk about this later… But…Danny…” You waited for him to wind his arms around you too, still watching his kid; before turning back to you at the sound of his name. You leant up, and brushed your lips against his; “…That’s going to stop being your life. Right now.” You untangled yourself from him and walked back out into the restaurant with purpose; “Y/N!!! Wait--!” He placed his hands over his face; he couldn’t watch! Oh God! What had he done!? You approached the table with confidence and a smile. Although, by the time he looked up you were pretty much at it; “Hi...! Nolan, right?” He looked at you with shifty eyes, never quite actually looking at you... “Yeah...” It was a start. “I'm Y/N... It’s nice to meet you!” You held out your hand, whether he decided to take it was up to him but you were determined to make all the right moves. He was a teenager, and like you, he'd clearly just met someone he didn't know about nor was intended to be met (at least for the time being). He took it, but he still wasn’t looking at you. “Do you mind if I..?” though, you weren't sure what you were going to do if he said No. He nodded, so you took a seat opposite him. Things were quiet for a minute, to his left was a pile of school text books, which piqued your interest. But you would leave that for a moment. You folded your hands in front of you “I'm sure this is about as strange for you as it is for me...” You gave a shrug, “Maybe it’s better to be thrown into it. Though…” You gave a warm smile; “Ah. The days of high school.” He squinted at you like he wasn’t sure of your game plan. “I can’t wait to leave.” “Trust me, we all say that until we do…!” God knows you’d wanted to leave school, only to give anything to be back once real work started… You looked back to his books; “Music? Aha! You inherited the creative gene! That’s good!” He still seemed confused by your voice, because you sounded genuinely interested in him. “…Yeah – My mom is a singer… so…” “Really!?” “Yeah, she has an album…” Danny…! Danny!! “That’s really cool!” You didn’t care if he appreciated your enthusiasm or not, but nothing about it was fake. You wanted to know as much about Danny’s son as you could… and that was really cool. “Do you play? Does she…?” “She does… I don’t, yet… Guess I could learn.” Then he tilted his head “Do you?” You laughed; “I was not really blessed with too much creativity. I mean I tried, back in high school… I have more of a… business logic!” “Oh?” He made the same face Danny made when his brain started piecing the picture together. But that tone let you know you weren’t what he expected. Maybe that was your age… or the way you looked? Kevin had already made comment enough to make you think Danny was into younger women… Maybe he was also into a certain type of woman? Didn’t you exactly fit the bill? “Yeah. Consultancy…” You gave a shrug like you were talking about boring adult stuff and leant into the conversation “Do you cook too?” “Oh. No, we don’t learn that.” “Guess you don’t need school to teach you!” He looked a little unconvinced of that… So, you nodded back to his books; “Spanish though… Are you forced to take that or did you choose to?” His eyes widened. Ah-ha! Wasn’t expecting the language change up. “OK – I didn’t understand half of what you just said but you’re-!” “Quarter Argentinian, Quarter Puerto Rican. Yeah! Interesting Mix!” You smiled “You’ll understand in no time!” “Showing off, are we?” “He’s taking Spanish. I figure I’d make myself useful..!” You winked, welcoming Danny to the conversation. Nolan looked across to his dad; “So, are you dating-dating?” Danny nodded “Yeah…” “And where did you meet her?” “Uh… on a dancefloor… In Little Havana.” The teen rolled his eyes like that was typical, then looked to you; “Well I’m sorry.” You tilted your head as a question; why? He grinned, then laughed “That you’re dating my dad!” That made you burst into laughter too, and Danny just sighed; “OH yeah. You two will get on just fine!” ***

 Tuesday, 1:30pm - Downtown Miami

Three days after you’d been introduced to Nolan you got a single word email. “Lunch?” You raised an eyebrow. Couldn’t he have text you that? After you told him that’d be nice he gave you a time and place and you drove down to the little cafe. “A lunch date Mr.Rayburn? I’m honoured.” “And not in my restaurant!” He was leaning with one arm over the back of his chair “Are you impressed?” It was a bright sunny day, and he had seated you outside. “Surprised!” You smiled, pulling out a chair you sat opposite him. You received an up and down look to your figure-hugging pencil skirt, high heels and shirt; “Stripes?! Again? You do know other patterns exist in this world Y/N?” He tapped out his cigarette “... not that you don’t look great! Of course you do!” “Are you calling me out?” “Why? Is that your wardrobe?” “Yeah Alright Mr.Button-Up-Shirt-Over-Shirt. You don’t see me complaining.” Well, that is what he was wearing. He laughed “Ha… Yeah… Well that’s… Ok.” He smiled “Never say anything about a girls fashion sense… huh?” You winked “Something like that.”

Placing your bag over the back of your chair you flicked through the menu “The email was a nice touch… Very 1999. Couldn’t you have just text me?” He rolled his eyes at your jab, but was confident he was about to get another; “Aw. Naw. I don’t text. It’d take me 45 minutes!” He waved the flip phone in your face, making you laugh “Yeah. I still can’t believe I’m calling something from the middle ages! Get on the level Danny!” You indicated to your smartphone. “Well we aren’t all wealthy heiresses driving Porches!” “Please!” You folded your arms “I hope my parents leave me with nothing! They deserve to spend it all! …And your family isn’t exactly broke.” He snorted “HA! As if I’m seeing a penny of that…!” He leant around the table to study your outfit again, taking the opportunity of the waiter taking your order to change the subject “…Anyway… What is it that you do to get dressed up like that?” You leant on your hand and smiled, “Manage a team. It’s consultancy… Mostly financial, not always. My dad asks me to do a bunch of his financials, for example. Sometimes it’s just advice.” “Oh. Business consultancy, I see.” You could see the small smug smirk at how he’d called you his consultant back at his restaurant and you actually were one. “Yeah. And I got this without help, CV and interview like everyone else… Could have worked for my dad. Decided against it.” “Sure the name didn’t hurt.” “Maybe. But the point is – I still got it the old fashioned way…” “Didn’t fancy going more science based? Like your mom?” “No. Too much of a business head apparently. And creativity. No kind of logical sense… And I panic too much! I’d be no good at that.” “Does she work at Mercy?” “Occasionally now. She used to. No, she’s at a drug rehabilitation clinic. And she’s GOOD at her job. You should hear some of those stories.” You figured they’d rival Danny’s “…From time to time she helps my dad when it gets real busy…” You gave a shrug, that was your family “…So, anyway, why invite me for lunch!?” “I just wanted to apologise.” “For what? You’re buying me lunch to apologise?” “For Nolan.” Then he re-clarified “Well not FOR Nolan... for not telling you about Nolan.” “Don’t worry. I get it. I’m glad I met him, he’s a nice kid.” You were quick to wave off his apology. “You think?” “Yeah.” His question was pointless, you knew Danny knew that. The three of you had spent hours talking before the restaurant opened, and then when Danny had to start work you stayed to talk to Nolan, including starting some basic Spanish tutelage. You thought maybe he might like you a little too… But he was a teen, so goodness knows what was going on in his head really. “How often do you see him?” “Uh... well... when I can.” “You don’t have an arrangement?” “I’m not very good at that. The only reason he turned up Friday is cuz I forgot about picking him up, see? I’ve had pretty bad arguments with his mom... like not speaking for two years arguments ... there’s no arrangement, I’d screw it up.” “Well. If ever you decide otherwise. I think it’d be pretty cool to see him again and hang out.” He laughed at your enthusiasm, but marvelled at your insistence, you genuinely wanted to get to know his kid...Hell, not even his family really knew Nolan existed... If only he could guarantee they’d all react like you. He already knew how his parents felt, and that was enough for him not to try. With you though, he would – and he had a feeling from what Nolan had already told him, that his son was more than willing to try with you too.

*** You had a spare few minutes between clients and would be passing near enough past Viva Caputa as it was, so you decided to pay Danny a quick visit. Since you’d been taking clientele there – you trusted Danny and his team with your literal livelihood – and your parents had also swung by a couple of times, you’d got to know the team pretty well. Javier always insisted on dragging you into his section, when Nolan wasn’t working… Because occasionally Nolan would pop up at the restaurant, and you took this opportunity to get to know him better. Jason was like Danny’s right hand man in the kitchen and when Danny was with you, Jason kept everything running straight. He was vastly upgraded from being the pâtissier he was supposed to be, but flat out refused to be called the sous chef. Often accompanied by the phrase C’mon Dan! I’m not good enough to be your right-hand man and you know it! When you pulled up today, Jason and Danny were in the lot already on smoke break. You rolled your eyes – that could have been a good thing, however, as that meant you wouldn’t have to go inside because Javi would keep you talking for hours… “Hey Darlin’! Lunch on us again!” Jason joked, stepping forward to hug you; “G’damn would you look at this?! How much did that set you back!?” He studied your car “No. I’m between clients; this is a whistle stop visit. But when I’m drivin’ by there is no way I CAN’T pull up to see you guys... And more than I’m willing to admit! It’s just so I can pull up at clients and look like I make that much…” He raised an eyebrow like he wasn’t believing your explanation for either thing; “Yeah yeah... I know what you’re really here for!” He grinned and turned back to Danny, who was leaning against the wall watching you “…I mean I don’t begrudge you that. But I saw him first!” “Oh! Is THAT how it is!?” You smacked the top of Jason’s arm playfully “What? Do I have to fight you for him now?” “Oh! No! Only for his affection!” Jason winked “I mean, you can have him to be honest, I’m not sure I could stand much more than I already get!” He said it loud enough for Danny to chuckle; “Alright asshole! Back in the kitchen!” “Awww! Danny!!! C’mon!” Danny indicated to his cigarette “You’re done. Back in! Before it becomes chaos!” Jason took one last drag before laughing and stubbing it out, turning back to you “Or I’ll trade Danny for your car…” he squinted at the vanity plate “Ervin 911? Were the other 910 taken!?” He snickered to himself, making you roll your eyes. He knew it was a 911, so the joke was pointless; “Well my dad has every version going. Ervin 1, Ervin II – Roman Numerals – and even E-R-V-1-N… Think I should have joined a police academy really…” He laughed at your joke this time, “Alright! Good one…!” then looked back over his shoulder at Danny, who was looking a little impatient, tapping his foot against the wall; “…It’s good to see you, if only for a fleeting moment! Don’t be a stranger!” “Never!” You hugged him back, “Say Hi to Javier! But not right away or I’ll never get to my next meeting on time.” “Or you’ll just NEVER get there… Danny would be ok with you sticking around though. Distracting his staff!” You faked shock; “I do not!” “Yeah, we get told off for it too!” “Jason!” He pointed back at Danny’s call as if to prove his point, then walked back towards the doors, adding before he headed inside; “…Danny, the kitchen IS always Chaos!” “…Organised Chaos!” Danny called after him and you heard Jason’s laugh “Is that what you call it!” He stepped away from the wall, cigarette in hand “You couldn’t have timed this any better! Do you really only have five minutes?” You checked your watch “Could stretch it to 8…? I guess… I’m not too far away. But I do like to be prompt!” He gave a small shrug and put the cigarette to his lips “Can’t say I don’t try to make you stay. No, it’s good of you to come see us!” “I love seeing you guys. They are GREAT guys.” “I got very lucky with all of them… Absolutely…” He looked to the ground for a minute, thoughtful “I mean… I got lucky with you too…” “Danny…” “No honestly…!” He stopped you, “You have no idea.” You folded your arms and bit your lip, almost bashful. That just made him smile. “You’re doing it again… You keep hiding yourself from me. I don’t know why… We’re not in the Keys anymore.” You let yourself smile but looked to the floor, twisting your fingers together as you unlocked your arms; “The Key’s was YOU.” “Baby girl…” He made your shiver as he said it, “The Keys was my family. I’d much rather be up here with you and you know it. Besides, if your parents were makin’ the case… I think I’m pretty good.” “Good? My parents LOVE you. I’ve never seen them like this over a guy before…” He laughed “Never thought I’d hear that from anyone… let alone the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Miami.” You hushed him, whether it was true or not your father never acted that way. He refused to. He might have had a plethora of vehicles… buildings he owned… investments he’d made in a million different kinds of things… But your parents lived in a humble house in a good neighbourhood. And you had always asked them NOT to give you money. Because you wanted people like Danny in your life, and if you had been any different, you dreaded to think what you would be missing out on. “…My background doesn’t matter. ALL I want is you… And I don’t want anything else to matter but that.”   He dropped his cigarette and put it out with one swift movement of his foot. You had to go, he knew that. But you still stood for a few moments more in silence. So he became decisive and grabbed your hand, pulling you into him he placed his lips on yours and wound his arms around you. He tasted like smoke and cooking spices. You took a breath, he smelt like cooking, like home, and a billion memories of both your childhood with your mom and your time spent with him; each one of them good… But the undertone of that was his cologne - Danny didn’t bother with that often, he wasn’t that kind of man – left over on his skin probably from your last date night. Everything about him when he kissed you screamed summer night; as the sunset and the day just started to cool off. You could see it in your head vividly, because that was the exact scenario you wanted to be in with him every moment he had his lips on yours. He left you slowly, letting the kiss linger, his intense eyes burned into yours “…Ace that meeting.” He left you breathless. Every. Single. Time. Your voice mimicked that of the first time you’d called him soft and almost timid and that was all him; “…I will now…”

---

@stcphstrange - Just gonna tag you in all of these now 😊😉

#danny rayburn x reader #Bloodline #Danny Rayburn #Ben Mendelsohn #Danny Rayburn x You #Danny x Reader #Sway #Linzi Writes #Getting myself a new tag to keep all my writing together...! #Are we going to end all parts with a GIF now? Yeaaaaahhhhh #Liliana #3

[millennial-medusa]

Anything, Everything

Oh look another super cheesy percabeth baseball au fic, what a surprise

Figured I should give Percy & Annabeth a little backstory and history, yeah? So here we go, how they met and the first game Annabeth went to.

read on ao3

February 16

Annabeth pulls her coat tighter around herself and pushes forward, stepping over and across the orange-and-black-clad fans with as much grace as she can muster. She successfully avoids stepping on any feet—though she nearly loses her balance several times—and makes it, finally, to Grover’s and her seats in the student section.

“There are too many people on this planet,” Grover grumbles, plopping onto the bleachers and immediately wincing at the bite of cold metal.

Annabeth laughs and huddles closer to him. “You’re not wrong, but at least the crowd is generating some kind of heat. I’m freezing. Whose idea was it to start baseball season in February?”

Grover shrugs and digs into his nachos. “Want any?” he asks, his voice muffled by the mouthful he’s working on.

Annabeth shakes her head absently and studies the field. She hasn’t been to a baseball game since her dad took her to see the Yankees in sixth grade, but she spent the last week researching the rules and history of the game. She’s determined to be the best, most supportive girlfriend ever, so knowing the basics of the sport isn’t enough. She wants to really understand it, especially since she’s planning on being at all of his home games.

“It’s not a big deal,” he’d told her when he saw her stack of books. He’d brought her coffee for their Thursday night library study date, with just the right amount of cream, and the gesture had made her even more determined to learn everything there is to know about baseball.

“It is a big deal, Seaweed Brain,” she’d answered stubbornly. “You want to do this professionally, and you love it, and I want to love it too. So I should figure out how it works.”

He’d blushed a little, clearly pleased at her enthusiasm, but he had laughed all the same. “It’s really easy to pick up on, I swear. You just have to pay attention to the game on Friday and you’ll have it figured out in no time.”

“Yeah, but I want to really get it. And I like research.”

With a grin, he’d leaned over and kissed her temple. “I know, Wise Girl.”

Thinking back on it makes Annabeth smile, and she has to shake herself out of the memory to refocus on the field. The teams are in the dugout, so she can’t see him yet, but she’s straining to get a glimpse. He’s the starter, she remembers, and it’s a home game, so he’ll pitch at the top of the innings.

Actually, she thinks, with the amount of research she did this past week, she should know who decided to start the season in February.

She taps her heel against the metal bleachers, the cold and her nerves making her jittery. Grover must notice, because he wraps his arm through hers and squeezes lightly.

“It’s gonna be a good game,” he tells her. “He’s a fantastic pitcher—you should’ve seen him in high school, everyone on the other teams was terrified to bat against him.”

She smiles back at him. “Yeah, but the Giants were top of the college league last year.”

Grover blinks at her. “I thought you didn’t follow baseball,” he says, and Annabeth grins.

“I didn’t until about four months ago.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “All those years I tried to get you to watch baseball so we could talk about it together, and you kept saying you had 'more important and intellectually stimulating' interests to pursue,” he mimics her in a high pitched, snooty voice, and she snorts. “But now that you’ve got a boyfriend…”

“First of all, I didn’t sound like that,” she scoffs, ignoring his grunt of disagreement. “And second, it’s a little different now that I have to go to all these games to be a supportive girlfriend. Just be happy you can talk baseball with me now.”

“I wouldn’t want it to get in the way of your superior intellectual endeavors,” Grover shoots back, but there’s no malice behind it.

“I’m sure those can wait. Besides, I’m pretty sure I actually know more than you do now,” she teases.

Grover gives her an affronted look. “In your dreams, Annabeth.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

August 24

Annabeth’s favorite time to go to the library was right at the beginning of the semester. Midterms and finals were months away, it was too early for any tests or papers to be looming on the horizon, and the library was always practically empty. When it got busier, she usually preferred other various study locations—anything to escape the throngs of caffeine-high college kids—but now, on the second day of classes? She was the only one on the whole floor. She could browse the stacks, leaving her stuff at her table without fear of it being stolen, even read out loud if she needed to. There was no one to bother.

That is, until he showed up.

He was tall and lean, with a shock of unruly black hair, and maybe under different circumstances she’d be impressed, but as it was he had stumbled onto her while she was laying in one of the aisles reading Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise out loud to herself, and she was not pleased at the interruption.

A few feet away, he faltered under her gaze. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but he seemed frozen in place, watching her. She felt a blush start to creep into her cheeks, but forced herself to stay cool. Their eyes locked; she expected him to leave now that she was glaring at him. He didn’t.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”

He shook his head slightly and ran his hand through his hair. Annabeth tracked the movement with her eyes.

“Sorry,” he coughed out, “I just…um, I’m looking for a book, and I’m not—I mean, it might be here. Somewhere.”

She studied him as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes darting about nervously and settling back on her.

“Somewhere?” she echoed.

He nodded.

“As in ‘somewhere’ in this aisle, or ‘somewhere’ on this floor, or—?”

“Somewhere in this library,” he squeaked, his voice pitching up at the end as though it were a question. Annabeth only blinked back at him, noting the flush spreading across his cheeks. It was a lovely shade of pink. “I, uh, well I don’t really know how to find it, so I figured if I just sort of walked through the aisles eventually I’d have to stumble across it, you know?”

At that, Annabeth sat all the way up and frowned. “You’re walking all over the library looking for one book?”

His blush deepened, and some of Annabeth’s irritation melted away at his obvious discomfort.

He stared down at his shoelaces. “I’ve never really…”

“Been in a library?” she snorted, but immediately regretted it at his cringe. “Sorry, that’s not what I—”

“No, it’s okay.” He shook his head. “I haven’t, actually.”

She gawked at him. Annabeth had been spending her free time in the library since…well, since she was old enough to walk to the public library. That anyone could get to college—college!—without having set foot in one? It was unfathomable.

“How?” she asked, not bothering to hide her incredulity.

The boy shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny and played with the strap of his backpack. “It’s sort of a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” she answered, settling her back against the shelves and patting the floor next to her. “Not that you have to tell me, of course. But you’ve piqued my interest.”

He watched her a moment, as if sizing her up, before making his decision and dropping down next to her. “It’s sort of embarrassing, and not very entertaining.”

He was about a foot away from her, and Annabeth took the opportunity to study him more closely. He wore old, black converse, jeans, and a dark blue tee shirt. The color looked good on him, she noted, suddenly realizing how incredibly attractive this guy was. She wasn’t sure how it could have slipped her notice before, even amid her annoyance and confusion, but he had the bone structure of a marble statue and the lean but muscular build to match.

Frankly, he was…well, he was gorgeous. And sitting next to her. In the middle of an empty library. As her heart rate picked up, she began to wonder if maybe she’d made a mistake in inviting this impossibly handsome stranger to continue their conversation. She didn’t need to get her heart broken again after the last year and the whole Luke debacle, and she was afraid that the longer she talked to this boy, the greater the risk of being let down.

But, Annabeth, decided, that was ridiculous. It was just one conversation, and then campus was so big she’d probably never see him again.

“I’m in the library on a Thursday night. It’s not like I’ve got anything more interesting going on.”

He turned to meet her gaze, and his eyes were so green it knocked the wind out of her.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his eyes tracing the lines of her face. She forced herself not to blush.

“Annabeth Chase.”

And then he was smiling, smiling so widely and brightly that Annabeth couldn’t help but smile back, and maybe this was a bad idea after all, maybe there really was something different about him, but she was already too far gone to back out now.

“What’s yours?”

February 16

“Percy Jackson with another strike out!”

Percy grins, watching the K flash across the scoreboards. It’s the top of the third, and he’s only let five batters get past him. Only one scored a run, Beckendorf’s already hit a homer for the Demigods, and Chiron is almost smiling in the dugout.

As he and Jason jog back to the dugout with the rest of the guys, they high five and wave to the crowd.

“I love home games,” Jason shouts over the cheers, and Percy nods in agreement.

He turns to search the student section for where he saw her earlier, and quickly spots her blonde hair. He waves once, and she’s in the stands on the other side of the field but he’s confident she knows it’s for her.

Suddenly Charles Beckendorf, a sophomore that Percy took to as soon as he made the team, slaps him on the back. “Nice inning, Jackson,” he says as they shuffle into the dugout.

“You too. That was a wicked double play.”

“Gotta show the Giants we mean business.” Beckendorf winks and takes the seat on the bench next to him. “So the girlfriend you talk about nonstop is here?”

Percy blushes a little—okay, so he talked about her a lot, especially to Beckendorf since he’d given him the advice on asking her out and everything, but it wasn’t that much—but he can’t help the wide grin that stretches across his face at the mention of her. “Yeah, she’s in the student section with our friend, Grover.”

“With the way you get all mushy just talking about her I figured you’d get distracted when she finally saw you play,” Beckendorf says, and Percy frowns at him.

“Why would you think…?”

He snorts. “Because the first time Silena came to one of my games, I was so nervous I struck out every single time I was at bat.”

Percy gawks at him. Beckendorf is one of the best batters on the team, has drawn the attention of several big league teams, and Percy would never have believed that if he hadn’t just heard it from Beckendorf himself.

“You struck out…every time?”

Beckendorf nodded. “Silena still teases me for it.” Chiron calls him over, and he stands to grab his bat. “But if you keep playing the way you have been, Jackson, you won’t have that problem.”

Percy shoots him a thumbs up before he turns to confer with Chiron, and he heads into the bullpen to keep himself warm. He’s determined not to embarrass himself in his first college game, even if his stunningly beautiful and dangerously smart girlfriend is in the stands. He’s been dreaming about this game since he was a little kid batting off a tee in the public rec center, and it’s even better than he’d imagined. Annabeth is an added bonus he hadn’t dreamed up before.

So Beckendorf is right; he won’t have that problem. Besides, even if he does majorly screw up somehow, he knows Annabeth wouldn’t tease him about something so important to him.

August 24

“So after I was diagnosed it made a little more sense that reading was so hard, but I still hated it, and it was embarrassing to sit there and struggle, so I just sort of…avoided it,” Percy said with a sigh. “My mom sat with me every night for an hour just to get through a few pages, and I know I probably sound stupid but—”

“You don’t,” Annabeth interrupted.

Percy glanced over at her and searched her eyes for the wariness or judgement he was used to seeing, but instead found them open and understanding and a beautiful gray flecked with blue, so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t staring into them, and was she closer than before? He wanted to answer, but he suddenly found his mouth incredibly dry.

“You don’t sound stupid. I’m dyslexic, too,” she said softly. “And I’m not ADHD but reading is already really hard for me, so I can’t even imagine having to deal with that on top of it.”

He felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could breathe more easily, and he wasn’t sure how five minutes after meeting this girl she could make him feel like that, but if listening to her talk and staring into the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen was what it took, he was happy to do it as often as possible.

“Um, yeah,” he said dumbly, slightly distracted by the blonde wisp that had slipped from her ponytail and curled along her jaw.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, each taking in the other, and yeah, they were definitely closer together than they were before but Percy didn’t mind at all, and he had to remind himself that he’d only just met this girl, that they hadn’t known each other for years and didn’t really know anything about each other, because he was dangerously close to kissing her right then and he didn’t know what her policy on kissing strangers was but he figured it wouldn’t be in his favor, and—

“So,” she coughed, “What book were you looking for?”

He blinked a few times. “Oh, um. It’s called Red Harvest? It’s a detective novel.”

“Yeah, I read it a long time ago. It’s really good! It’s like an action novel, but with a good plot and compelling writing and you get into the detective’s head. You’d probably actually like it even with the dyslexia and everything,” she said, getting to her feet and offering him a hand.

Percy couldn’t help but be a little disappointed; he’d been enjoying talking to her, and it hadn’t lasted very long. But she probably wanted to get back to her own book, so he nodded and explained, “My friend, Grover, recommended it to me, and that’s pretty much what he said.”

Annabeth stared at him slack-jawed, and his mind raced to figure out what he’d said to upset her.

“Grover?” she asked, and Percy nodded mutely. “Grover Underwood?”

“Yeah, how did you—?”

“You know Grover?” They spoke at the same time, both excited and intrigued.

“He’s my roommate, and we went to middle and high school together,” Percy said.

Annabeth’s smile was the prettiest he’d ever seen, and he had to practically bite his tongue off to keep himself from telling her.

“Grover and I have been going to the same summer camp since like, eighth grade.” She laughed, and then a thought seemed to occur to her. “Do you play baseball?”

It took Percy’s brain a few seconds to process and catch up, but he stuttered out a confused, “Um, yeah?”

“Oh my God,” Annabeth laughed, “you’re him! You’re the best friend Grover always talked about, that plays baseball and gets himself landed in detention all the time!”

Percy scoffed. “I wasn’t in detention all the time, and there was always a good reason.”

“Oh, I know, I’m a big admirer of some of your pranks.”

“I hope he only told you the really good ones, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Annabeth rolled her eyes, but the delighted smile hadn’t left her face and Percy was determined to keep it there. “So I take it that means you’re his genius architect friend that was a counselor with him?”

A pretty flush painted her cheeks, and she glanced down shyly. “I wouldn’t say I’m a genius.”

“Grover would, and I trust his judgement implicitly.”

She looked back up at him, a new light in her eyes that made Percy’s heart stutter. “I do, too.” Then, before he could think of anything even remotely clever to say: “Well, your crime fiction novel is not likely to be in the world languages section. Let’s look somewhere that actually makes sense, huh Seaweed Brain?”

February 16

“Come on, Seaweed Brain!” Annabeth shouts, clapping wildly. He can’t hear her over the din of the crowd—they’re all on their feet, yelling and waving, cheering their support as Percy prepares to strike out the third batter of the seventh inning—but she screams herself hoarse all the same. She’s wholeheartedly invested in the game now. Percy had been right; the sport was incredibly easy to follow, but she finds herself watching anxiously, not just for Percy or even their school’s team, but for herself as well.

Annabeth had never pegged herself for a baseball fan, despite her unwavering support of the Yankees. (This love was, of course, cultivated from a young age and in support of her favorite city, rather than being built on an informed opinion, but now that she knows how much she likes the game, she figures keeping up with the Yankees won’t be too much of a hassle.) And yet here she is, jumping up and down beside Grover, who is just as animated as she is. They clutch each other’s hands as Percy rears back and sends the ball flying.

A swing and a miss, and the stands roar around them.

As he heads towards the dugout, he turns towards them and waves, just as he has at the end of the last six innings. He’s too far for her to really see his face, but she knows it’s for her and Grover every time. Annabeth’s cheeks are starting to hurt from all the smiling she’s been doing, but she can’t bring herself to care. Not even the cold can bother her now.

(Seeing Percy in his uniform for the first time helps with that too. The jersey? The cap? The knee high socks, weirdly enough? And sweet Lord, those pants…she’s heard girls talk about the pants football players wear, but they must not have been to a baseball game before. Even from a distance, she can tell how well Percy fills out those pants, and the thought is enough to keep her warm all over.)

“You know,” she says, turning to steal some of Grover’s sour patch kids, “it’s interesting that Percy likes to talk about Tom Seaver’s pitching style so much.”

Grover’s brow furrows, and he swallows the mouthful of candy he was working on. “Why? He was a great pitcher, and you know Percy loves the Mets.”

“Yeah, but with how much he likes him, you’d think he’d mimic his style more.”

“You think he doesn’t?”

Annabeth shakes her head. Chris Rodriguez is at bat now, and she watches him take a few warm up swings. “Seaver liked to pull his hands all the way up over his head and swing his leg out on the follow through. Actually, Roger Clemens’s style was similar, and he talks about him a lot, too, even though he played for the Red Sox. But Percy just pulls back, not up and over, and his leg doesn’t arc out like Seaver’s so much as it just sort of twists. And he’s more relaxed. He doesn’t even look like he’s trying very hard.”

Grover is staring at her now, wide-eyed.

Chris doesn't swing, but the pitch is outside. Ball one.

“He reminds me more of Mariano Rivera than Seaver, or Clemens,” she finishes.

It takes a moment for Grover to process what she said, apparently, because she has time to steal three more candies from him before he finally answers, “Who are you?”

Annabeth laughs.

Chris hits a pop up foul.

“No, seriously, who are you and what have you done with Annabeth Chase? Because the Annabeth Chase I know doesn’t care about baseball and can’t tell you the difference between a short stop and an outfielder.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sniffs, “of course I knew the difference between a short stop and an outfielder. Just because I didn’t watch it doesn’t mean I was completely in the dark.”

“I distinctly remember having to explain the difference to you the summer before our freshman year of high school,” he says, raising his eyebrows at her.

Chris swings and misses. Strike one.

“Whatever. I did some research, so now I do know the difference, and all the rules, and the major milestones in the history, and the most famous players, and I spent a few hours on Percy’s favorite pitchers. So I’m fully prepared, and you can talk my ear off about baseball and I’ll actually understand what you’re saying.”

Grover smiles widely at her, and she assumes it’s because after years of pestering her, she finally appreciates the game. But his smile is too soft for that, too positively gleeful, so she frowns questioningly back at him.

“You like him,” he says.

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but she can’t help blushing a little. “Of course I like him, Grover, we’ve been dating for four months.”

“Yeah, but you really like him. Like, spend hours doing research on a sport you don’t think you like, like him.”

Chris hits the ball way out to left field, and manages to make it to second base.

“I like my research,” she grumbles. And then, softer, “But yeah, things are going well and I really, really like him. I’ve got a good feeling about him.”

He nudges her shoulder with his own. “If it’s not super obvious already, he really, really likes you, too.”

“Well, I’m glad the last four months haven’t been a waste of both of our time.” Annabeth ignores the way her heart flutters and her stomach feels like mush. She knows how much he likes her. He’s not subtle, and frankly, neither is she.

“I think there will be plenty more not-wasted months ahead, then,” Grover says. “You know, as long as you don’t tell him you just compared his pitching style to Mariano Rivera.”

She blinks at him. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because Mariano Rivera played for the Yankees, Annabeth!”

“Yeah, so? So did Babe Ruth. They’re one of the best teams in history.”

“And you know how much Percy despises them.”

She rolls her eyes, both of them pausing to cheer as Jason’s line drive gets him to first and Chris to third. “The Mets are terrible, and I’ve got the stats to prove it.”

“What are you gonna do if they recruit him?” Grover asks, popping another handful of sour patch kids into his mouth.

She thinks it over, and then says, “I’ll have to go to his games, I guess. But I’ll wear my Yankees jersey to every single one.”

Grover snorts, and they both dissolve into giggles.

October 5

“If I have to read another word about liberal hegemony I’m going to scream,” Annabeth said as soon as he arrived, sliding deeper into her seat.

“Government that bad?”

“You have no idea,” she groaned. “It’s so easy, but so incredibly boring.”

Percy frowned down at her. “If it’s so easy, why bother studying for it?”

She sent him a look he’d come to understand as “I’m going to assume you already know how ridiculous what you just said was”, and he conceded with a shrug.

“I’m almost done, thankfully, but I’ve read so much about ‘actors in the global system’ I feel like a goddamn theatre major.”

Percy chuckled and slid into the chair across from her, the same seats they could be found in every Tuesday and Thursday night for the past six weeks. He’d chickened out of getting her number the night they met and spent the whole week regretting it, so the next Thursday he wandered the library again—searching for her, rather than a book. He thanked every deity he could think of when he found her, and the smile that lit up her face when she spotted him was so bright he decided he’d spend every day in the library just to see it.

From there it had become a sort of tradition to meet in the library on Tuesday and Thursday nights, sit at their table, and spend hours studying and doing homework and talking. Or, more accurately, Annabeth studied and read out loud—it helped with her dyslexia, and Percy loved the sound of her voice—while Percy listened and procrastinated on his own work by watching, entranced, as she did hers.

Studying her came much more easily to Percy than any scholarly subject. He had picked up on her habits: how she’d chew her bottom lip and frown when she didn’t understand something, how she’d tap her heel on the floor when she’d been sitting for too long, how she sat up straighter and talked excitedly when he asked her questions and she got to explain, how she smiled and flushed and rolled her eyes when he complimented her. He’d learned about her family, about her love of architecture, about her summers at camp with Grover, about how she’d tried sushi when she was thirteen and gotten food poisoning and refused to ever eat it again, and about how she’d been correcting people’s grammar since she was about four. They’d both been grateful that not many people came to their little secluded corner of the library during that story; they’d laughed obnoxiously loudly. Percy could just picture her, tiny and chubby with perfect blonde ringlets, precociously announcing that, “Um, actually, it would be ‘whom’, not ‘who’.”

He had also learned, in those weeks, that he was an absolute fucking coward who could not ask the most beautiful, funniest, smartest, most perfect girl he’d ever met on a date.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. It had been a struggle to keep himself from kissing her at any given moment from that very first night they’d sat together, and his inner monologue was pretty much always just a stream of please go out with me please go out with me wow your eyes are really pretty please go out with me I want to run my fingers through your hair how do you make different kinds of columns sound so fascinating what do I have to do to get you to kiss me please go out with me please please please—

But every time he decided he’d finally ask, she’d get to a tricky spot in a reading, or want his advice on a part of her essay, or even just look at him in a way that made the words stick in his throat, so now it was October and he was pretty sure he was falling in love with her despite the fact that he couldn’t even get her on a date.

They fell into their usual routine, Annabeth finishing her reading—out loud, now that he was there to read to—and Percy watching her tug at the necklace that rested against her collarbone and trying not to imagine what noise she’d make if he kissed the skin there.

She finished the article and turned to make some notes, and Percy took a deep breath. Beckendorf had talked him into asking her today, no backing out, and he needed to know her answer one way or the other and it had to be now because waiting for another week sounded like torture.

“Hey, Annabeth,” he said slowly. She hummed, not looking up from her notes. He coughed a little, his throat suddenly very, very dry.

“What’s up, Perce?”

His heart caught in his throat at the nickname, and he could feel his cheeks warming. “Well, I was wondering—hoping, really, if you…um, I just…if—if maybe tomorrow night, I mean if you wanted, because I want to—um, do you—?”

“—Want to go to dinner?” she finished for him. He swallowed nervously and nodded. “I’d love to.” She smirked at him and all the air left his lungs.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah, Seaweed Brain, I’ve only been waiting over a month for you to ask,” she laughed.

Percy didn’t stop smiling the whole rest of the night. But, he noticed, neither did Annabeth.

February 16

As Percy jogs to the mound at the top of the ninth, he’s aware of several things.

First, he’s aware that Chiron has been reluctant to let him pitch this late into the game, and he has to prove that he isn’t even a little tired. Pitchers don’t normally stay in this long, but Percy had insisted and Chiron has a soft spot for him, so he’s determined to finish this game.

Second, he’s aware that they are currently beating the Giants 7 to 4, so as long as Percy can keep them from scoring more than two runs, they won’t even have to bat the bottom of the inning. The game will be over. He doesn’t intend to let them score at all.

Third, he’s aware that along with thousands of fans and everyone watching it on television, his family, best friend, and girlfriend are all in the crowd, cheering him on. The thought should be nerve-wracking. Instead, it settles him. He can’t wait to give every single one of them a giant hug. (Annabeth will be getting more than a hug later, but he can’t let himself get distracted right now.)

Fourth, he’s aware that his stamina is at an end. He needs to make the next few pitches accurate and tricky, because he doesn’t want to have to pitch to more than three guys.

He steps onto the mound and watches as the umpire examines a few baseballs before handing one to Jason. Jason, in turn, lowers his catcher’s mask and tosses it to Percy, who catches it easily and cradles it in his glove, feeling the weight of it. He transfers it to his other hand, and his fingers skim across its soft surface.

As he rubs the red stitches under his fingers, everything synthesizes into one thought: make these next few pitches count.

He gets into position, spreading the soft dirt with his feet and tugging the brim of his cap down slightly. The ball twists in his hand, buried in his glove, as he watches the batter lift the bat above his shoulder.

And then he’s rearing back, his left leg lifted high across his body, and then he’s twisting and throwing and the ball his leaving his hand and his left cleat is digging into the mound and his body is rocking forward with the momentum and all he can see is Jason’s mitt, and then the ball is too far left, it’s outside of the strike zone and Percy is catching himself on his right foot, and then the ball is curving right and down and crossing home and the batter isn’t even swinging and Jason’s mitt is closing around it it’s a strike, and then the crowd is cheering and Percy can breathe again.

He repeats the process again, and again, varying the types of pitches he’s throwing to keep the batters on their toes and rarely missing the strike zone. He does it all unthinkingly, entirely on instinct, and before he knows it the third batter is slumping dejectedly and the noise is deafening around him.

It’s his first college baseball game and Percy just struck out the last batter.

Jason reaches him first, his mask discarded in the dirt near home, and pulls him into a bear hug.

It’s his first college baseball game and Percy pitched every inning.

The rest of the guys are surrounding him, Beckendorf is next to him, and Lee Fletcher, and Coach Hedge and Chiron are coming over too.

It’s his first college baseball game and Percy just won it.

Suddenly he turns, craning over the heads of his teammates to see—

His mom and step-dad, Paul, and his little sister are all in the center section of the stands behind the net. They’re cheering, Estelle bouncing gleefully, and Percy can see the pride and tears gleaming in his mom’s eyes even from here. She returns his wave and gestures towards the exits; he knows he’ll meet them outside in a while.

Then he turns to the student section, but he can’t find Grover and Annabeth. They weren’t where they had been sitting, and he frowns a little because surely they couldn’t have gotten out so quickly in this crowd, and they wouldn’t have left before the game was over, would they?

But then he spots a head of blonde curls pushing forward, followed by Grover, the two of them fighting against the crowd.

Percy pushes through his teammates and takes off at a run.

For as quickly as the last inning passed, reaching the low wall separating the left outfield from the stands takes an inordinate amount of time, and Percy feels like he’s running in water or time has slowed down or something because he just wants to be there and to see her and it’s not fair that it’s taking so long. Finally, though, he’s reaching the wall and slowing down slightly, watching eagerly as Annabeth shoves through the last crowd of students and reaches the wall. He’s staring up at her, and her hair is wind-blown and tangled and her cheeks are rosy and her coat is askew and the setting sun on their right is casting a golden glow over her and Percy thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

Her hands on the wall rest just below his chin, and she’s bending over it, her face hovering just over his own.

“You won,” she says simply.

He pushes onto the balls of his feet, braces one hand against the wall for balance, and places the other on the back of her head. And then she’s leaning further and he’s pulling her in and they’re kissing, and they’ve kissed plenty of times before but something is different now. Kissing Annabeth, he realizes later, has the same effect as twisting a baseball in his hands; Percy’s entire world narrows to the most important thing. And right now, that’s the feeling of her lips moving against his, pressing hard and hot and passionately.

It’s the best kiss of his life, he thinks.

(But, of course, he thinks that just about every single time he kisses Annabeth Chase, and he’s pretty sure he’ll never stop thinking it.)

Suddenly he’s yanked backwards. His eyes fly open to see Annabeth, still hanging over the wall with a dazed smile on her face, and Grover laughing behind her, but he’s being dragged backwards and away from them. He’s dimly aware of Jason and Sherman Yang on either side of him, gripping his arms, while others—Beckendorf, he thinks, and maybe Lee Fletcher—laugh behind him, but he can still feel Annabeth’s lips on his and her silky hair under his fingers and she’s still hanging there, getting smaller and smaller as he’s pulled back to the team.

“Sorry to interrupt, Jackson,” Sherman laughed on his left, “looked like you were having a good time.”

“You don’t sound too sorry,” Percy shot back, getting his feet back under him and pulling away.

Jason wrapped his arm around Percy’s neck and turned him so they were walking back towards the dugout together. “We are. But only a little.”

“You’ve got to celebrate with your team!” Lee added. “It’s your first win, and we loooooove you!”

Percy laughed as Lee batted his eyelashes, giving him a playful shove to the shoulder.

“Besides, you’ll have time to celebrate with Annabeth later,” Sherman said. “And celebrate, and celebrate…”

Lee laughed, “I’ll bet you’ll be celebrating with her all night long!”

Percy blushed bright red. “Fuck off, Fletcher,” he snarked, but there was no real bite behind it. After all, if the way she’d kissed him back just now was any indication, he wasn't too far off.

As they jostle into the dugout with the rest of the team, Percy throws one last glance over his shoulder to the student section. Annabeth and Grover are nowhere to be seen, having disappeared into the crowd or already made it out of the stadium. He’ll see them, and his family, in a while.

He follows Beckendorf into the dugout and is greeted by a chaotic mixture of wolf whistles, congratulations, and roughhousing.

It’s perfect.

October 6

Annabeth stopped outside her dorm building and turned to face him.

“This is me,” she said shyly.

They were still holding hands; she couldn’t remember when they’d started. She liked the way his hand felt in hers. It was larger and warmer and rougher than her own. It was perfect. She never wanted to stop holding his hand, and that was dangerous, that was how she’d gotten hurt with Luke, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of Percy’s hand.

He stepped closer. “I, um…I had a really nice time,” he said, just as awkward and shy as she felt. It was a little bit of a relief. She smiled up at him.

“I did, too. I wouldn’t mind doing it again some time.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, almost in disbelief. Just like he had the night before, she remembered with a chuckle.

“Yeah.” Their eyes were locked together, sea green on grey. “Or doing something else. Like a movie, or coffee, or a concert, or just hanging out. I like spending time with you, Percy.”

She was determined to be honest with her feelings. She was determined to make this work.

“Me too,” he answered, then frowned. “I like spending time with you, I mean. Not with myself, obviously, but you probably got that so—”

Without really thinking about it, Annabeth found herself pushing up onto her toes and grasping his other hand in hers and pulling him forward and pressing her lips softly, ever so softly, to his. He was still for a moment, and she was about to pull away but then he was kissing her back and it was delicate and tender and perfect.

It was the best kiss of her life, she thought.

She lowered herself back down, pulling away slightly, but he bent to keep their foreheads pressed together. They breathed, unable to quite catch their breaths, and they stayed there—eyes closed, foreheads together, hands entwined—for the shortest eternity Annabeth had ever experienced.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found his already staring down at her. They were darker now, the mischievous glint she was used to replaced by something more serious. The fire behind them burned deep and hot and intense and it was burning up all the air in Annabeth’s lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. She was drowning on dry land.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered to be careful, that she’d barely known him a month. That she was moving too fast. That this was only a first date. She shushed it. She’d known him her whole life. She’d known him a thousand lifetimes.

“Percy,” she whispered, letting her breath ghost against his lips, “kiss me again.” Her voice was hoarse, and her lips were dry, and his eyes tracked the movement of her tongue as she wetted them. “Please.”

And then his lips were on hers, harder and hotter, and his hands were sliding up her back to pull her flush against him and she was gasping and sliding one hand into his hair, the other thrown around his neck to press him harder against her mouth. His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she opened willingly under him, letting him take whatever he wanted, anything. Everything.

This, she thought, was the best kiss of her life.

By the time they slow and pull apart, another eternity has passed, and they are both panting, still pressed together.

“So,” he said finally, “how does pizza and a movie tomorrow sound?” His smile was hopeful and cheeky and positively infectious, and she returned it without hesitation.

“Sounds like a plan, Seaweed Brain.”

They stared at each other a few moments longer, and she couldn’t look away from his eyes on hers.

“Goodnight, Percy,” she whispered finally, pulling out of his grasp.

“Night, Wise Girl.”

Annabeth headed inside, glancing over her shoulder as she entered the building to see Percy standing where she left him, watching with a dopey smile on his face. It matched hers. By the time she reached her room, her eyelids were already drooping, so she hurried through her nightly routine as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake her roommate, and fell into bed, tired and happy and already dreaming of sea green eyes and excited for tomorrow.

It was perfect.

#wow this is long ok #caroline write a fic that isn't unnecessarily dramatic and cheesy challenge #apparently i am incapable #so y'all are gonna have to settle for this #my writing #baseball au #otp: best underwater kiss of all time #percabeth #fanfic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #hoo

[your-dietician]

Top centers available right now

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/sports/top-centers-available-right-now/

Top centers available right now

Youth and upside headline the free-agent center class of 2021 in the NBA, but not so much in terms of proven star talent.

Regardless, at least one player is set to receive a hefty payday in Jarrett Allen, who should command a long-term contract at an annual average value of over $15 million thanks to his production thus far in his career and his yet-to-reach potential.

After Allen, however, things get dicey for teams needing centers, as Richaun Holmes is our second-ranked free-agent big man this offseason, and he’s mostly a role player with good rebounding and finishing skills but lacking in special qualities.

Serge Ibaka checks in at No. 3, and he’s coming off an injury-riddled campaign and season-ending back surgery, a scary combination for a player with so many miles on his body.

At No. 4 is another big-name veteran on the heels of a disappointing season in Andre Drummond, who ended his 2020-21 with the Lakers receiving a DNP-CD as Los Angeles was eliminated.

As you can tell, there are some decent names in the free-agent center class of 2021, but outside of one player, no one who’s about to get a big-time contract.

Below, check out our full rankings for the top free-agent centers available in 2021.

ALL PLAYERS / POINT GUARDS / SHOOTING GUARDS SMALL FORWARDS / POWER FORWARDS

Jarrett Allen / Restricted free agent / Last team: Cleveland

Jarrett Allen, Cleveland Cavaliers

An absolute force on both ends of the floor. Not the perfect modern big man due to lack of floor-spacing but he’s such an elite dive threat out of the pick-and-roll that he creates space for teammates that way. Top shot-blocker and rebounder, too. 2020/21 stats: 12.8 ppg, 10.0 rpg, 1.7 apg, 61.8 FG%, 31.6 3P% Career earnings: $10,034,582 Agent:Derrick Powell

Richaun Holmes / Last team: Sacramento

Richaun Holmes

High-level frontcourt athlete who is an excellent finisher out of the pick-and-roll. Good touch around the basket and uses athleticism well to protect the paint. 2020/21 stats: 14.5 ppg, 8.3 rpg, 1.7 apg, 63.7 FG%, 18.3 3P% Career earnings: $14,943,252 Agent:Brian Jungreis

Story continues

Serge Ibaka / Player option / Last team: LA Clippers

Serge Ibaka

Injury concerns and mileage could concern potentially interested teams this offseason, though he’s still a solid floor-spacing, shot-blocking big man when healthy. 2020/21 stats: 11.1 ppg, 6.7 rpg, 1.8 apg, 51.0 FG%, 33.9 3P% Career earnings: $129,123,661 Agent:Jim Tanner

Andre Drummond / Last team: LA Lakers

Andre Drummond

Another Laker who will want to burn the tape of his postseason run. Received a DNP-CD in the team’s last game of the playoffs. Elite rebounder and solid scorer around the rim but his actual impact on outcomes leaves a lot to be desired. 2020/21 stats: 14.9 ppg, 12.0 rpg, 2.0 apg, 49.3 FG% Career earnings: $137,830,480 Agent:Jeff Schwartz

Montrezl Harrell / Player option / Last team: LA Lakers

Montrezl Harrell

High-energy big man who is a top finisher near the rim thanks to athleticism. Great threat out of the pick-and-roll. Lack of size and poor coordination make him a subpar defender. 2020/21 stats: 13.5 ppg, 6.2 rpg, 1.1 apg, 62.2 FG% Career earnings: $24,774,382 Agent:Rich Paul

Mitchell Robinson / Team option / Last team: New York

Mitchell Robinson

One of the best shot-blockers in basketball and a solid rebounder. Has improved defensively in that he no longer chases as many blocks and puts himself in bad positions. Mostly just a catch-and-finish player on offense. 2020/21 stats: 8.3 ppg, 8.1 rpg, 0.5 apg, 65.3 FG% Career earnings: $4,709,013 Agent:Thaddeus Foucher

Enes Kanter / Last team: Portland

Enes Kanter

A double-double machine comfortable as a starter or coming off the bench. His issues arise come playoff time when opponents pick-and-roll him off the floor due to poor movement skills on defense. 2020/21 stats: 11.2 ppg, 11.0 rpg, 1.2 apg, 60.4 FG%, 25.0 3P% Career earnings: $99,812,533 Agent:Mark Bartelstein

Nerlens Noel / Last team: New York

Nerlens Noel

Big man who thrives as a paint-protector, is capable of switching onto ball-handlers and who plays with loads of energy. 2020/21 stats: 5.1 ppg, 6.4 rpg, 0.7 apg, 61.4 FG% Career earnings: $27,157,625 Agent:George Langberg

Robin Lopez / Last team: Washington

Robin Lopez

The hook-shot king of the NBA, he’s extremely accurate when teams let him get the ball to his right hand and over his left shoulder. Capable of doing some rim-protecting, too. 2020/21 stats: 9.0 ppg, 3.8 rpg, 1.1 bpg, 63.3 FG%, 27.8 3P% Career earnings: $89,540,945 Agent:Darren ‘Mats’ Matsubara

Daniel Theis / Last team: Chicago

Daniel Theis

Shot-blocking, outside-shooting big man, though he needs to improve at the latter skill to become an even more reliable player. Plays with good energy and toughness. 2020/21 stats: 9.6 ppg, 5.5 rpg, 1.7 apg, 54.1 FG%, 32.2 3P% Career earnings: $12,193,857 Agent:Aaron Mintz

Tristan Thompson / Last team: Boston

Excellent rebounder, especially on offense where he gets his team multiple extra possessions. Not much of a defender off of switches, though he is physical and strong enough to battle down low with paint-bound centers, and his scoring solely comes from being spoon-fed easy looks. 2020/21 stats: 7.6 ppg, 8.1 rpg, 1.2 apg, 51.8 FG% Career earnings: $108,696,603 Agent: Rich Paul

Dwight Howard / Last team: Philadelphia

Now bought into his role as a reserve center and more of a team-first player, he’s been one of the more effective backup centers in basketball. Remains a good shot-blocker and rebounder. 2020/21 stats: 7.0 ppg, 8.4 rpg, 0.9 bpg, 58.7 FG%, 25.0 3P% Career earnings: $243,196,658 Agent: Charles Briscoe

Cody Zeller / Last team: Charlotte

Experienced big man who might be best-suited as a full-time backup these days. Soft hands and can finish with the right or left around the rim. Solid screen-setter. 2020/21 stats: 9.4 ppg, 6.8 rpg, 1.8 apg, 55.9 FG%, 14.3 3P% Career earnings: $73,410,113 Agent: Sam Goldfeder

Khem Birch / Last team: Toronto

High-energy big man with shot-blocking and rebounding chops. Good finisher around the basket, though no range on his offense. 2020/21 stats: 7.2 ppg, 5.8 rpg, 1.3 apg, 49.7 FG%, 25.0 3P% Career earnings: $8,205,356 Agent: Austin Brown

Frank Kaminsky / Last team: Phoenix

Frank Kaminsky

Reserve-level big man who can be plugged into a lineup and asked to do some scoring. Good shooter and ball-handler for a center, though provides very little defensively. 2020/21 stats: 6.6 ppg, 4.0 rpg, 1.7 apg, 47.1 FG%, 36.5 3P% Career earnings: $18,322,107 Agent:Bill Duffy

Alex Len / Last team: Washington

Energetic center with solid size whose game is limited to dunks and rebounds. 2020/21 stats: 6.6 ppg, 4.1 rpg, 0.8 apg, 61.5 FG%, 32.0 3P% Career earnings: $32,441,628 Agent: Michael Lelchitski

Willy Hernangomez / Last team: New Orleans

Solid big man with soft touch around the basket and finishing ability with either hand. Can even provide some baskets out of post-ups, though better out of the pick-and-roll. 2020/21 stats: 7.8 ppg, 7.1 rpg, 1.1 apg, 56.3 FG%, 10.0 3P% Career earnings: $7,721,130 Agent: Guillermo Bermejo

DeMarcus Cousins / Last team: LA Clippers

When given playing time, can still provide some scoring, rebounding and playmaking, though nowhere near at the levels of his pre-injury self. 2020/21 stats: 8.9 ppg, 6.4 rpg, 1.9 apg, 42.6 FG%, 34.8 3P% Career earnings: $89,939,347 Agent: Jeff Schwartz

Gorgui Dieng / Last team: San Antonio

Floor-spacing center who can swat away shots defensively. Likes to shoot it from the corners and reliable from there. 2020/21 stats: 6.8 ppg, 3.7 rpg, 1.3 apg, 52.1 FG%, 42.9 3P% Career earnings: $69,689,390 Agent: Thaddeus Foucher

Kevon Looney / Player option / Last team: Golden State

Kevon Looney

Quietly one of the best defensive big men in the league when forced to switch onto ball-handlers. Solid and steady, just don’t expect big numbers out of him. 2020/21 stats: 4.1 ppg, 5.3 rpg, 2.0 apg, 54.8 FG%, 23.5 3P% Career earnings: $14,638,904 Agent:Aaron Goodwin

Willie Cauley-Stein / Last team: Dallas

Center who does the majority of his damage as a screen-setter and rolling to the rim for high-flying dunks. Should be a better rebounder and paint protector with his physical gifts. 2020/21 stats: 5.3 ppg, 4.5 rpg, 0.7 apg, 63.2 FG%, 9.1 3P% Career earnings: $21,627,957 Agent: Adie von Gontard

Hassan Whiteside / Last team: Sacramento

Elite shot-blocker and rebounder but his lack of focus and effort, as well as his propensity for seeking out his own stats, greatly hamper his actual impact. 2020/21 stats: 8.1 ppg, 6.0 rpg, 0.6 apg, 56.3 FG% Career earnings: $102,988,.751 Agent: Sean Kennedy

Dewayne Dedmon / Last team: Miami

A decent rebounder and shot-blocker who finishes plays at a high rate around the basket. Has shown a three-point shot in the past, though it’s been years since he’s been reliable from beyond the arc. 2020/21 stats: 7.1 ppg, 5.4 rpg, 0.8 apg, 70.8 FG%, 20.0 3P% Career earnings: $34,899,193 Agent: Michael Silverman

Bismack Biyombo / Last team: Charlotte

Bad hands around the rim and no jumper to speak of, but a good shot-blocker and decent rebounder. 2020/21 stats: 5.0 ppg, 5.3 rpg, 1.2 apg, 58.7 FG% Career earnings: $87,424,093 Agent: BJ Armstrong

JaVale McGee / Last team: Denver

JaVale McGee

Good finisher in the paint thanks to his freakish wingspan and still-solid athleticism. Can swat away shots defensively with aplomb. 2020/21 stats: 7.3 ppg, 5.2 rpg, 0.8 apg, 51.1 FG%, 20.8 3P% Career earnings: $66,337,737 Agent:BJ Armstrong

Moritz Wagner / Last team: Orlando

Crafty scoring big man with some outside shooting touch, though struggles as a rebounder and isn’t consistent with his jumper. 2020/21 stats: 6.9 ppg, 3.2 rpg, 1.1 apg, 45.4 FG%, 34.1 3P% Career earnings: $6,211,675 Agent: Jason Glushon

Isaiah Hartenstein / Player option / Last team: Cleveland

Center with great size and length who can finish around the rim, but has a limited individual offensive game. 2020/21 stats: 5.1 ppg, 3.9 rpg, 1.2 apg, 55.0 FG%, 33.3 3P% Career earnings: $2,459,028 Agent: Mike Naiditch

Boban Marjanovic / Last team: Dallas

Second-tallest player in the league with great hands down low and elite finishing ability in the paint. Not an every-night player due to defensive limitations in the modern NBA. 2020/21 stats: 4.7 ppg, 3.9 rpg, 0.3 apg, 50.8 FG%, 12.5 3P% Career earnings: $29,200,000 Agent: Jeff Schwartz

Tony Bradley / Restricted free agent / Last team: Oklahoma City

Solid third-string center who can provide impactful minutes here and there, though hasn’t developed to the point where he’s an every-night player. 2020/21 stats: 7.1 ppg, 5.7 rpg, 0.9 apg, 66.5 FG% Career earnings: $8,598,860 Agent: John Spencer

Meyers Leonard / Last team: Miami

Floor-spacing center with slow feet, making him a poor defender on switches, and equally unexplosive leaping ability, causing him to struggle on the glass and protecting the paint. 2020/21 stats: 3.3 ppg, 2.3 rpg, 0.7 apg, 42.9 FG%, 42.9 3P% Career earnings: $60,142,479 Agent: Aaron Mintz

Mike Muscala / Last team: Oklahoma City

A floor-spacer at the 5 who doesn’t provide much outside of decent three-point shooting. 2020/21 stats: 9.7 ppg, 3.8 rpg, 0.8 apg, 44.6 FG%, 37.0 3P% Career earnings: $17,252,553 Agent: Sean Kennedy

Luke Kornet / Last team: Boston

Fits into the floor-spacing, shot-blocking big man archetype, but isn’t elite at either role. 2020/21 stats: 3.4 ppg, 2.2 rpg, 0.8 apg, 43.6 FG%, 25.4 3P% Career earnings: $6,196,510 Agent: Jim Tanner

Harry Giles / Last team: Portland

Formerly an elite prospect, injuries have really set back his development. Still a fairly athletic big man with some explosion as a paint finisher. 2020/21 stats: 2.8 ppg, 3.5 rpg, 0.8 apg, 43.3 FG%, 34.8 3P% Career earnings: $8,265,804 Agent: Jeff Schwartz

Ed Davis / Last team: Minnesota

Valued locker room voice throughout his career, but one who’s lost a step athletically and no longer can provide nightly impact. 2020/21 stats: 2.1 ppg, 5.0 rpg, 0.9 apg, 43.2 FG% Career earnings: $44,545,534 Agent: Aaron Mintz

Udonis Haslem / Last team: Miami

Udonis Haslem

In the very (very) late stages of his career, but still considered a top team leader and a trustworthy locker room voice. 2020/21 stats: Four points and one rebound in one game. Career earnings: $66,355,962 Agent:Mitch Nathan

Tacko Fall / Restricted free agent / Last team: Boston

Tallest player in the league who has only gotten spot minutes throughout his career. Elite presence down low as far as deterring shot attempts, but very slow-footed and gets winded quickly. 2020/21 stats: 2.5 ppg, 2.7 rpg, 0.2 apg, 72.4 FG% Career earnings: $733,492 Agent: Justin Haynes

ALL PLAYERS / POINT GUARDS / SHOOTING GUARDS SMALL FORWARDS / POWER FORWARDS

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[itispossibleihaveissues]

Another Perfect Catastrophe -4

AUTHOR: Mikimoo PAIRING: JayDick RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Non Consensual drug use, Non Consensual touching, Non Consensual kissing, humour, slight mayhem

SUMMARY: Dick goes undercover as himself in order to catch a gang of international thieves. Jason reluctantly tags along as his long suffering bodyguard. During the ensuing mayhem they get to know each other again and build a few bridges.

Thank you to burkesl17 for the beta!

Notes: An embarrassingly long time ago, the amazing and very, very talented Pentapus invited me to do a reverse bang style exchange, and drew me an amazing prompt. I have no idea how this story was the one that emerged from the many options I had, but such is the creative process I guess! Anyhoo, many thanks to Pentapus for both encouragement and patience, and of course the incredible art! (which will be included at the end of the appropriate chapter)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

 “Oh, it’s very rustic!” Dick said, as the limo drew up the grand sweeping driveway.

The place was a damn castle, with an actual turret. Jason tried not to be impressed. “When was it built?” he asked Celia, opening the car door for her. He was curious to know if she had bothered even doing any research about the place.

“Mid Seventeen Hundreds,” she said primly, as she disembarked. Her designer heels crunched menacingly as she stalked towards the house. It seemed Richie Grayson had been getting on her nerves during the long, sober drive from London. At least Dick seemed to be in better spirits, getting under the skin of this little gang of thieves seemed to have improved his mood immensely, and he was practically swaggering towards the house.

“That's kind of old isn't it?” Dick said, in his most obnoxious, dumb-ass tone. “I would have thought your dad would have bought something a little newer, more spunky? Bruce got me an island for my eightieth. A private getaway, you know? But it was kind of shit, so I sold it for a penthouse in New York and a jet.”

Celia forced her mouth into something that resembled a smile, but she still looked like she was thinking about gutting him and possibly setting fire to his innards.

Sofia came to the rescue and draped herself over Dick's arm while she smoldered up at him. “Tell me more about your travels.”

Dick launched into a hugely embellished story about how he had once met the Queen. Jason noticed he left out the fact that he had been ten and had spilled juice down his shirt. Bruce seemed to remember that incident fondly, although at the time they had spoken about it, Jason had felt he had been really glad it had been Dick who had been on that trip with him. He remembered how that had stung, even though he didn’t want to go see some stuck-up old lady in her big stupid palace. He had spent so much time consumed with jealousy and fear of not being good enough, just remembering it made Jason’s chest ache with its echoes.

As they entered the foyer, a tall man came to greet them. “Celia, you brought guests,” he said, smiling insincerely. His eyes lingered on Jason with cool assessment.

“Henry! I didn't realise you would be here!” Celia said, unconvincingly. “This is my brother Henry. Are you here with friends too?”

“Yes, just four of us, but we'll stay out of your way. I'm sure you kids want to have fun.”

He didn't look like her brother, he looked like a bouncer or hired muscle, a mercenary maybe. He moved like a fighter, confident, and like he was used to packing a gun. Unusual for a Brit who wasn't attached to armed police or the military.

Things were taking shape now. They had armed back up and an isolated environment to work with so it probably wouldn’t be long until things kicked off. Hopefully he and Dick would be ready for them.

 Jason was given his own room, but he chose to join Dick in his while he 'rested' after the trip. They chatted about the estate, their plans and casually flirted, while carrying on a second conversation via text. Until they could check for hidden cameras and bugs there was no point in taking chances.

So, research house then snooping? Dick wrote, while glibly commenting on the twee furnishings in the room.

find me blueprints while i check for bugs

Jason scanned the room using the Wayne Tech installed in his phone. He detected what appeared to be a crude camera in the light fixture and a recording device under the bedside cabinet. He texted as much to Dick. It was going to be difficult to cover the camera subtly – Jason had a brief vision of tearing Dick's shirt off and flinging it over the light shade, but it was unlikely to actually work in any convincing manner. They were going to have to work fast or things might get awkward, if not downright fucked up.

“If you're going to nap, then I'll take a look round the grounds if you don't mind?” Jason said out loud.

“Cool, wear your jacket, it’s pretty chilly out. I thought we could go to the beach, but it's freezing!” Dick pouted.

“It's England in May, Richie, not exactly the Bahamas.” Jason didn't bother to hide his peeved tone, he didn't need Dick reminding him how to do his damn job, of course he would wear his own, armoured jacket, that was the whole point of bringing it. Although they worked well together, Dick did have a tenancy to drive Jason insane, especially when it came to his duel inclinations towards being both bossy, overbearing and a mother hen.

Still, he felt good putting on his real gear, the weight of it was comforting. His pockets were filled with electrical goodies for planting his own bugs and he felt his mood lift slightly. He was looking forward to getting this wrapped up and hopefully cracking a few heads in the process.

He headed out into the gardens first, checking carefully for surveillance. They hadn't set much up - very sloppy and overconfident. If 'Henry' was a merc, he was a piss poor example of one.

He did a circuit of the house, first he went through what would in summer no doubt be an impressive rose garden, then across a perfect lawn of fresh green grass that smelt like heaven after a week of bar rooms and sweaty drunks. From the edge of the lawn he could see what looked to be a freaking hedge maze, and beyond that, cliffs and the sea.

Finally he made his way back towards the small back courtyard and headed back inside via the terrace. He had yet to see anyone, either the brats or the hired muscle, so he cautiously but casually investigated the lower floors. He planted a few bugs, and mentally marked the location of any he had located during his search. The two rooms he most needed to enter were the master bedroom and the lower office, where he suspected the gang was hanging out and plotting. But there would be time for that later.

 He headed back out to the gardens with his cigarettes, making it obvious he was going for a smoke, although the artifice was kind of pointless, nobody seemed to give a shit what he was doing. He easily avoided the crappy surveillance outside and headed towards where the blueprints told him the office was. He wouldn't have a chance to get inside for a while, but he could still gather some intel. He positioned himself by the window and switched on his ear bud, then used a small but powerful microphone to pick up the conversation inside.

“Why the fuck is the bodyguard here?” That sounded like 'Henry'.

“Because Richie Rich is fucking him and can't stand to be separated for a single day.” Celia's voice snapped.

“You know we will have to kill him, it's going to get fucking messy.”

They had no idea how messy. Jason idly wished he could just whack the lot of them, no further investigation, no proof to stand up in court, no more dealing with all of these fuckheads. But the tenuous relationship that had formed between himself and Bruce, and even with Dick, was not something he actually wanted to sacrifice, or at least not for these bunch of morons

“It could work in our favour,” Celia said, jarring Jason from his murderous daydreams.

“I don't see how, and we've never killed a mark before, let alone two.” That was Jack.

“We will do what we have to,” Celia said. “The thing is, Bruce Wayne might be a drunken perv most of the time, but when it comes to business he's very shrewd. He has declared no ransom should be paid in the event of his own kidnap. The few times he has paid a ransom for someone else, he's got his money back after the fact through hiring people to hunt the perps down.”

Maybe she was the brains behind the operation after all. Actually doing research. One point to House Denbury.

“So, what are you saying is ransom is out, so we kill them? Do you think that will make Wayne less likely to come after us?” Jack said, he sounded aggravated, killing was apparently a step too far for him. Or maybe it was the thought of the help that Bruce allegedly 'hired.'

“Not necessarily, it's the loss of face he hates rather than the money, he and Grayson aren't exclusive. He's probably too old for Wayne's tastes anyway, he just keeps him in fast cars and booze in order to keep him quiet. If we clean out his accounts it will still be a huge score, and we’ll probably be doing Wayne a favour if we kill him.”

No points to Denbury for that one. But it probably made scene to her icy-cold, sociopathic little brain.

“But Ed wants him first, doesn't he? He said we should wait until he gets here before drugging them, so he can do his thing,” Jack said.

“Fucking pervert,” Henry muttered, sourly. “He's a sick freak.”

“Be that as it may, he can have his fun after we get Grayson’s account details. Then we make it look like a murder-suicide. They have a horrible breakup - the bodyguard gets fed up with Richie’s philandering ways, kills his erstwhile lover and then himself.”

“It’s hardly Romeo and Juliet,” Jack said petulantly.

“It hardly needs to be. Wayne may look into it, but he won’t come after us the same way as he would with blackmail. I stake my life on it.”

“You’re sure he and Grayson aren’t a thing any more? He will be pissed if we kill his boyfriend.”

“He has at least two younger boys already in his house. I looked into it carefully. Grayson is nothing but an expensive liability. This is perfect.”

Jason wondered just how many people actually believed the slander that just skirted the edge of a lawsuit in some of the shadier gossip mags. It was strangely upsetting.

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Sofia’s lightly accented voice said. “The police will look into it, and they will discover the missing money. It will be obvious it was more than just a lovers tiff.”

“So we invent a third party. Lay a trail and let them follow that. Then we can head to the continent to lay low and consider our next target.”

“It’s agreed then. Tonight or tomorrow,” Henry said.

“Tomorrow gives us time to prepare. But we should speak to Ed tonight, I’m not sure when he’s due to arrive.”

“He’s the one who’s going to fuck this operation up, you know that right?” Henry said, “His sick games have no place in this.”

“He gets us access, so we need him.”

“If you say so,” Henry said, even more sour than before.

 The television was on loudly, but Dick was somehow actually napping when Jason returned to the room. He woke up when Jason tossed his jacket onto the chair, toed off his boots and slid into the bed with him. He pulled Dick close and buried his nose in his thick hair, which smelt like the expensive sandalwood shampoo from the hotel. The position of Jason’s face conveniently hid the movement of his lips, and put his mouth close to Dick’s ear so he could whisper low enough the sound of the TV would cover his words even if the microphone was a powerful one, which he doubted, but it never hurt to be careful.

“They’re planning to kill us rather than blackmail Bruce,” he whispered, and felt Dick shiver slightly in response to the hot breath on his skin.

“Mmm, nice,” Dick purred pushing back against Jason and making him inhale sharply.

“Garner’s in on it, he’s the sexual sadist, although the others go along with it. They’re going to kick things off quick, tonight or tomorrow – when he gets here.”

Dick turned in his arms and kissed his way up Jason's neck, open mouthed and sloppy. Jason had to take a moment to remind his body he was working and not playing. When he reached Jason's ear, Dick whispered, “We need info from their laptop, for proof. When we have that, we can call the cops and be done with it.”

Jason returned the favour, nuzzling against him in a way he had never imagined himself doing – even in his guilty fantasies it was all rough fucking and lacking affection. This was horribly nice and Jason once again forced his wandering mind, and body, back to work. “It’s risky, splitting up – you’ll have to distract them while I get the info,” he said.

“So be quick, I can’t refuse food or drink without appearing suspicious, and if they decide to dose me I'll be useless – you’ll have to look after me.”

To Jason’s slightly addled mind that sounded rather suggestive, at least when Dick was all but sucking on his earlobe. “I will,” he replied, in a slightly breathy voice.

He could feel Dick grin against his skin, the bastard knew exactly what he was doing. In retaliation Jason dragged his teeth across Dick’s throat, pausing to bite gently at his Adam’s apple before kissing up to his other ear. “I will,” he said again, firmly. Then he was suddenly flat on his back and Dick was straddling his waist, looking rumpled and beautiful.

“Lets save it for later,” Dick said, his voice husky. He gave a sinful roll of his hips, that despite appearances, didn’t actually make contact with Jason's crotch.

Jason sucked in a breath, and smiled cockily up at him. He had to get his own mind focused on the job. Despite his teasing, Dick was all business and was doing his best to respect Jason's perceived boundaries, avoiding actual sexual contact while maintaining the illusion of it. They probably should have spoken about it previously, on the off chance there were cameras – how far would they go? There were ways around it of course, without having to have fake sex, or have actual sex, and Jason had to firmly pull his mind out the gutter again. If they didn’t get what they needed tonight and had to continue this charade, then Dick getting wasted and passing out would be the logical way to deal with it. Yup. That was going to be the plan. Assuming the brats weren't actually expecting an orgy.

Dick smiled down at him, expression sharp and almost challenging, then to Jason’s relief he swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching with his arms up and his lean back twisting to the side with a sinuous motion.

“So, Jase, you want to come to dinner?” 

“Do I have to?” Jason asked petulantly. “You know I hate having to sit and watch these things, I fucking hate rich people.”

Dick laughed, there was an edge of mockery to it. “You like me well enough.”

“I like fucking you, Richie.”

Dick laughed again and strode over, all confidence and predatory grace, then he grabbed Jason's jaw and kissed him hard on the lips. It was possessive, more like a dog marking its territory than anything romantic. Jason's pants felt suddenly very tight.

“You’ll join us after though, won’t you? They’re all hot, right? I’m sure the evening will bring some perks,” Dick said.

“They are an attractive bunch, even that brother of hers.”

Dick leaned down over him again, eyes bright and intense. “You can play with the girls, but out of the guys, you only fuck me, no one else. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Jason somehow managed to say without embarrassing himself. It wasn’t clear to him if Dick knew the effect he was having with this sudden random improv. Jason was a bit surprised himself.

 After Dick went to dinner, Jason did another circuit of the grounds and house, this time tagging heat signatures. The office was clear, so he figured it was a good opportunity to get in and get into their computer system.

Their security was sloppy for someone of his calibre, and easily disabled. Once into the room he had a very quick look through the draws and loose papers, but there was nothing of any real value, so he turned his attention to the laptop. He hooked up his tablet and got to work cracking the security – it was surprisingly hard, considering how poor the rest of it was, someone was clearly very good with this side of things. He was better, of course, but he was rather tight on time.

His phone buzzed with Dick checking in.

all good. Weird vibe. Heard car in drive they said it was staff, check out?

Jason was starting to get that tingle of intuition that suggested this might all go to shit at any moment. After a brief internal debate he pinged Tim.

“Jason?” Tim’s voice was groggy like he had just woken up.

“Sleeping the day away? Tut tut, what would Daddy say.”

“I work nights, Jason. Double time at the moment due to everyone having broken limbs. What do you want?”

“You got a program that can get us into this system quick? I can do it, but time is of the essence as I suspect Dick might need back up soon.”

“Email me what you have and I'll see what I can do.”

Jason did so, and then went back to poking around the room while Tim muttered about codes and hacks in his ear. He found an interesting array of weaponry poorly concealed under the bed. Two pistols with silencers, a selection of vials with a clear liquid inside, a hypodermic needle that looked more like an instrument of torture than a medical device, and what looked like a dart gun – the kind vets used to anaesthetise wily zoo animals. He pondered for a moment, weighing up the likelihood that things would kick off today, and then emptied both guns and pocketed the bullets, then disabled the rest. He took a sample of the drugs too, for future analysis.

“Any joy?” he asked Tim.

“I know this work, it would have been harder than you might expect to gain access. It’s written by a hacker known as BellaCiao2000. That’s the name of an Italian partisan song.”

“Yes I know what it is, you little nerd. And I think I can hazard a guess which of our little gang of thieves is our techie.”

“Send me their info, I’d love to tangle with them again.” he sounded wide awake and interested now. Dork.

“In more ways than one, she’s smoking hot, if you like that sort of thing. She’s known only as Sofia among this bunch, I don’t have any idea who she is really. Perhaps you’ll have better luck.” He sent the info across, just as Tim cracked the code and the laptop opened up to reveal its secrets. It wasn’t particularly interesting stuff, but there should be enough to be incriminating. Tim stayed on the line, while Jason worked, delving into Sofia’s background.

Jason's phone bleeped again:

Think drufs duckingmice tho

That did not sound good: Either Dick was sitting on his phone, he was having trouble typing or he was off his face. Possibly all three.

“Tim, looks like that back up might be needed now. I gotta go. Can you deal with this crap for me and get anything interesting to the British police, and Interpol maybe. These chumps are global.” 

“Yeah, I can monitor things from this end too. Go rescue your damsel in distress.”

“I’m telling him you said that.” Jason rang off and packed up his gear as quick as possible. He didn’t bother covering his tracks too well, he trusted Tim to have ferreted out what they needed and having this wrapped up before it became an issue. He checked his watch. Two hours since he had separated from Dick. One hour since his coherent check in, fifteen minutes since the nonsense one, which Jason had loosely translated to mean: 'I think I’m on drugs, it’s fucking nice though.'

It was too long, fifteen minutes in an altered state with a bunch of potential sexual predators and indifferent sociopaths was an alarming length of time. Especially if that car Dick had mentioned earlier had been Garner.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood #mik trys to write stuff #My writing #My fic #catastrophe

[mizmahlia]

Another work in progress

This is from a monster of a piece I’m working on, to be posted once a few more chapters are in progress.

"Guess you'll just have to be faster next time, Red."

Jason grinned and waited for Tim’s reply, thumbing the safety on his gun and holstering it. He wasn’t disappointed.

"Yeah, well, you had a head start and I was swarmed with Penguin's idiots." Tim paused and through his earpiece Jason heard Tim's grapple gun fire again. "Thanks for the help, by the way."

Jason finished binding the hands of one of Two-Face's lieutenants behind his back. "I’m sure you handled it well. You didn't need my help."

Tim landed with a quiet thud behind him.

"Need? No. Would have appreciated? Yeah."

Jason shrugged and propped his boot on the back of the man lying in the dirt in front of him. He ground his heel down a little and the man grunted. "Didn't want to chance any of these morons getting away."

Tim glanced around and counted roughly twelve men scattered throughout the shipyard. Most of them were still breathing, which was a good sign. "Get anything we can use?"

Jason looked down at one of his gloved hands and pretended to inspect it. "Nope. Not a thing. Shockingly, none of these guys wanted to talk." The man mumbled something about the beating he'd been given even after he gave Red Hood what he asked for. Tim looked down at him, his jaw clenching in irritation.

"Seems to me like this one was helpful."

Jason nudged the man with his boot, rolling him over. He crouched down next to him and grabbed two fistfuls of his jacket, pulling him off the ground. The man's eyes widened at seeing his reflection in Jason's helmet. Before he or Tim knew what was happening, Jason snapped his head forward and knocked the man unconscious with a vicious head butt. Tim winced at the sound of cartilage breaking. Jason let go of the jacket and stood up, swiping the blood off the front of his helmet with the back of his glove.

"He told me enough, but he was still holding back." He dusted his hands together and turned to Tim. Tim was staring at him, leaning on his staff, not bothering to hide his annoyance at Jason's hesitation to share the intel. His voice was quiet, but heavy with frustration.

"Come on, Jay. You know we don't keep score. If it makes you feel better, you can run point on this Two-Face thing. I promise I’ll follow your lead." He collapsed the staff and drew his grapple gun. "But you don't have to do it alone."

Jason rolled his eyes, but kept his voice neutral. Tim just wanted to help and despite the fact he’d be done with the whole operation in half the time with Tim’s help, he didn’t want the rest of the family getting involved.

"There's no 'we' on this one, Timmers. I can handle it. Besides," he said, leaning around Tim and waving, "your ride is here."

Tim turned and searched the rooftops behind him, spotting Batman standing atop the adjacent warehouse, cape rippling in the wind. He sighed and turned back to Jason.

He was gone.

Tim sighed and headed toward where Bruce stood, grappling up easily onto the two-story building. He didn't look at Tim, instead focusing his attention on the direction Jason went.

"What was that about?"

"You weren't listening?"

He gave Tim a look and Tim knew there was an eyebrow cocked under that cowl.

"He stopped to help me with that Penguin thing, but right after he got there he took off saying he had bigger fish to fry."

"Did you need help? Robin and I were nearby at Gotham First National."

Tim shook his head. "I was fine. I think he stopped to help me, actually.” He paused, not sure how to ask what Bruce was thinking about. Deciding the worst that could happen was Bruce ignoring him, he went for it. "Is he... are you worried about him?"

There was a heavy pause as Bruce considered what to tell Tim. He'd had his suspicions, but couldn't confirm anything. Even with whatever was slowing him down, Jason was always in top form when it came to misdirection. It was admirable and infuriating at the same time.

"Something’s wrong."

Tim looked at Bruce, then down at the shipyard and all of the men lying there. "What makes you say that?" When he didn't answer immediately, Tim answered for him. "You've been watching him."

Bruce turned his attention from the shipyard to Tim. "Four of them were able to land multiple blows, which is rare, especially for men like those. They're very poorly trained."

Tim thought back to the rooftop earlier and how Jason stopped at the edge of the rooftop. He’d taken longer than necessary to re-tie his boot and adjust his ankle holster. Tim brushed it off at the time, but now that he thought about it, perhaps something was off.

Bruce recognized the look on Tim’s face. He was piecing together the events of the evening, looking for something he'd missed. "Something on your mind?"

"Earlier, he was a little out of breath or something, but it could be nothing. I don’t know where he’d been.”

"Anything else?"

Tim shook his head. "No. He seemed fine when I got here, but I haven't been here long and the fight was over. I don't have a lot to go on. Why?"

Bruce drew his grapple gun and aimed at the office building across the street.

"It's probably nothing. I need to get back to Robin at the bank."

Tim sighed in frustration once more as Bruce disappeared.

"Would it kill either of you to just talk to me?"

#work in progress #MizMahlia's FanFiction #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Red Hood #Red Robin

[minaminokyoko]

Escape: A Peter/Gamora ficlet

(A/N: Spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 1 & 2. Is anyone else dying to know the story of drunken Peter telling Gamora about David Hasselhoff? Here’s my headcanon of how it went.)

“If you like piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiña coladas!”

Gamora lifted her head from the book between her slender fingers and glanced with mild annoyance at the off-key exclamation that had just come from outside of her hotel room door. Her lips threatened to smile, but she refused to, despite being in her room where no one would see it. It was the principle of the thing, after all. She wouldn’t admit even to herself that Peter Jason Quill could be amusing on rare occasions.

“Getting’ caaaaaaught in the rain!” Peter’s voice continued. “If you’re not into yogaaaaaaa! If you have half a brain!”

Gamora snapped the book shut and stood up as she heard a fumbling, scratching sound. She pressed the button to slide the door open and affixed her lovely face into a bemused look. “Peter, what are you doing?”

Peter Quill abruptly stopped his caterwauling and blinked a few times. “Oh. Hey, G’mora. Whatcha doin’ in my room?”

As soon as he spoke, she caught a wave of alcohol fumes. It made sense. They’d just gotten paid for another job and the boys’ idea of celebrating was flying to the nearest habitable planet and getting completely trashed, spending most of their score, and bickering with each other. Baby Groot had curled up on a pillow on Gamora’s sofa, mumbling in his sleep every so often. Judging by his dilated pupils and shaky footing, Peter was all but three sheets to the wind.

“Your room is behind you,” Gamora said patiently. “That’s why the key card didn’t work.”

“Oh, man,” he said, his face falling with actual regret, to her surprise. “M sorry, G’mora, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m such a jerk.”

“Usually, yes,” she said frostily. “But not in this case. I wasn’t asleep. I was reading. However, you might want to apologize to the hallway full of guests who had to hear your shrill voice through the walls.”

“You’re so right,” he agreed, and then tilted his head to bellow, “SORRY, EVERYBODY! DIDN’T MEAN TO WAKE YOU UP!”

“SHUT UP!” someone shouted back.

“MY BAD!”

Gamora palmed her face. “Peter. Your room. That way.”

“Right, right, right. Sorry. G’night, G’mora.” He swiveled on his heel and walked up to the door. She watched him try to slide the card in eight times before finally sighing to herself and closing her own door. She snatched it out of his hand and placed it inside the hole. The door whooshed open and Peter stumbled inside, but not before turning and giving her an admittedly adorable smile.

“You’re a life saver, beautiful.”

She shook her head and caught his hand, dragging him towards the bed. “You need sleep or you will be too hungover to fly us out of here in the morning.”

“Well, one thing you’ll find out about me is that I bounce back like that.” He tried to snap his fingers on his free hand. “That. No, that. C’mon. That.”

Gamora sighed. “I will never understand why you find this infuriating state of intoxication so enjoyable.”

“Rocket said I couldn’t out-drink him,” Peter said defensively. “He was wrong. I won.”

“Did you have to buy every round to prove him wrong?”

Peter paused. “Yes.”

“Then no, you didn’t win. Rocket just wanted free drinks.”

Peter scowled. “Little trash panda.”

Gamora again refrained from smiling as she continued pulling the sheets down. She turned and helped him out of his red leather jacket. She felt his gaze on her and ignored it, brushing it off even though she felt her skin warming over her face and neck, over her shoulders, and in the tips of her fingers. Her heart beat mocked her with its accelerated pace. She tried to picture him as a child getting ready for bed, but it didn’t work. He was too close, too warm, and under the scent of alien beer was a rather nice, mild cologne.

He lifted his arms as she pulled off his outer shirt, still strangely silent and watching her fold it and set it on the nearby couch. Finally, when she turned around, he made a move.

He hugged her.

She stiffened, having expected something else. Stranger still, it was completely wonderful. He kept his hands on the small of her back and buried his nose behind her ear and into her dark hair. She hadn’t been held in years. Decades. Not since her parents. Gamora had lovers in the past, but none of them were permitted to touch her that way. This…it was affection, not lust.

And it scared her even more.

“You’re so good to me,” Peter mumbled with a sigh. “I don’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

She shut her eyes for a second. “Peter…”

“No, really. Thank you, G’mora. I know I get on your nerves all the time. S’ just ‘cause I like you. You’re pretty and smart and so much stronger than me. Dunno how you do it.”

Gently, she settled her hands on his chest and pushed until she could meet his gaze. God, his eyes were all for her, like there was nothing else in the entire cosmos. No one had ever been foolish enough to do such a thing. Maybe that was why he did. Peter Quill defied everything, and her expectations most of all.

Heart in her throat, she smiled weakly. “Guess that’s just how my father raised me.”

She led him over to the bed and pushed him to sit. He obeyed and she knelt, unlacing his boots. “Bet he was a great guy. Probably smart like you too. Y’know, when I was a kid growing up and everybody else had a dad and I didn’t, I used to pretend that he was this famous actor.”

Gamora’s brown eyes widened and flicked up at Peter’s face. She’d never heard him say much about his father since they left Xandar. She’d gently tried to ask about his life before Yondu abducted him, but he wouldn’t talk about it. She licked her lips, unsure of how to proceed. She wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to invade his privacy while he was drunk. Eventually, she softened her voice and kept unlacing his boot.

“What was his name?”

“David Hasselhoff,” Peter slurred. She frowned, unsure if that name was correct or if his drunken state had altered it somewhat. “He was this German icon. He could sing and dance and his biggest success was this TV show with a talking car called Knight Rider. It was the coolest thing I ever saw.”

He fumbled for a second and pulled a slip of paper out of his pants pocket. She took it, examining the square-jawed, fluffy-haired man that he apparently idolized. “Why him?”

Peter shrugged. “He’s the coolest man alive. Who wouldn’t want him for a dad?”

“No,” she said softly, rising and sitting beside him. “Why tell the others it was him? Why not just pretend on your own?”

“I don’t know. Guess I just ran with what my mother used to tell me, that my Dad was perfect and not like all the other people on earth. Hasselhoff sounded like a good option at the time.”

He took the picture back and stuffed it into his pants. Gamora took the plunge. “Do…the others know this about you?”

He shook his head. Her stupid, selfish heart fluttered. “They’d probably laugh at me.”

Without thinking, Gamora reached over and slipped her fingers through his. He looked at her then. “No, they wouldn’t. Out here it’s hard to find family. They’d understand.”

He smiled, running his thumb along her knuckles. It tickled and sent butterflies exploding through her stomach. He leaned in towards her. Her eyes flicked to his lips. They parted as he drifted closer.

He kissed her cheek. “Thanks, G’mora.”

She felt a tug of disappointment at her core. “You’re welcome.”

“Stay with me.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“Not like that, I mean…stay here tonight. Just tonight.”

“I…” Word clogged her throat and got stuck. She couldn’t look away from that hint of desperation and adoration on his face. Eventually, she just nodded.

He stood, drawing her up by the arm, their hands still connected, and she slid under the covers after kicking off her boots. She curled onto her side as Peter climbed in beside her and settled down, facing her. He smiled again, kissed the back of her hand, and snuggled down in the pillows, his eyes closing.

“Night, G’mora.”

“Good night, Peter.”

Slowly, she let her eyes drift closed.

And she never slept better.

FIN

I just have a lot of feelings about this ship, okay?!

#Guardians of the Galaxy #Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 #Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 #Peter Quill #Gamora #Peter x Gamora #Starmora #Quillora #headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #Starlord x Gamora #Starlord